Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch
by Talkaze
Summary: 6thyear. RWHG eventually..., HP? Chapter 15 is going to be added shortly.
1. Default Chapter

(A/N: Any characters or settings that appear in the official Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling are hers. Everyone and everything else is my creation. And if I do stick something in that belongs to yet another person, they will be duly credited.)

Summary:

It's been fourteen months since the return of the monster called Voldemort.

Harry Potter, his friends, and the Order of the Phoenix have finally proven that the Dark Lord has returned, and with it, the war against the darkness is begun again. But the good guys are split into three camps; the Ministry, the Order of the Phoenix, and the DA, who follow Harry and in turn the Order.

After a year spent covering up Voldemort's return, gaining complete control of Hogwarts through Dolores Umbridge, AND running a smear campaign against Dumbledore and Harry, the Minister Cornelius Fudge's competence and job are under fire by the wizarding populace. Too bitter and humiliated to join forces with the Order, Fudge tries to fight the Dark Lord with the power of the Ministry alone, at the same time seeking someone or something that can turn the tide of the war, and/or (although AND is more preferable) bring Dumbledore to his knees.

Harry Potter has the luxury of ignoring most of the political battles, but with Voldemort renting space in his head and a prophecy saying one must kill the other, he's got no choice but to continue fighting as well. While he teaches the DA to defend themselves and studies for his NEWT's, he also must find something to defeat Voldemort. Problem is he hasn't a clue what to look for…

There's something new to worry about as well, in the form of a young man from overseas. He has been trained to sense the presence of Death Eaters and his rather unstable powers are still growing, but at the price of his own school and parts of his memory. Voldemort and Fudge both want to get their hands on him, and so the Order has no choice but to enroll him at Hogwarts and hope that Dumbledore's own power and reputation are enough to keep both at bay.

This is the story of Harry Potter's sixth year, and what must be done when the darkness threatens to engulf the light…


	2. Summer Blahs

(A/N: Any character that appeared in the Harry Potter books under J.K. Rowling's name does not belong to me. I can only wish they did.)

**CHAPTER 1: Summer Blahs**

Unlike the summer before, the July day was cool, the sky dark with clouds threatening rain. It perfectly matched the mood of the boy staring out the window below, in the fourth house on the street called Privet Drive. To someone who didn't know better, the crow-haired boy looked like he was staring into space, lost in thought. But he was watching one of the driveways farther down the street. He stood as patient and still as stone, waiting. A quick gust of wind tore down the road, and down at the house he was watching, a tiny patch of air flipped inside out, and he heard a faint, dull 'thunk' of something wooden striking the ground. It seemed to be what the boy was watching for, because his dull green eyes came alive with anger.

'_Stupid Moody and his Invisibility Cloak!'_ Harry Potter thought. _'I know the Order's watching me now; why do they still insist on hiding from me?' _He sighed and pulled away from the window, flopping down on his bed next to it. He was almost sixteen years old, but he had the aura of someone who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and the non-stop worry and guilt that came with the burden. He was pale, and had dark circles under his eyes from too little sleep. His thin frame made his already too-big clothes even bigger, and they were worn, hand-me-downs from his young whale of a cousin, Dudley.

Harry rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Normally, he'd have given anything to be out of his aunt and uncle's house, but this summer was different. For the last two weeks Harry locked himself in his room and kept the curtains drawn except at dawn or dusk when he pulled them open so Hedwig could get in and out, or when his aunt and uncle decided to make him go outside for awhile.

Harry was of two minds about his self-imprisonment. One side wanted to stay in his room forever, never having to come out and face a world where Sirius and his parents, and Cedric Diggory and so many others had died at the hands of the wizard world's greatest monster. Where he was the Boy-Who-Lived, prophesized to kill the Dark Lord or be killed by him, in a war that was a sequel to one fought twenty years before and ended by Harry himself. In the Dursley's house he was safe, protected by the blood-protection that was his mother's dying gift. Because Harry Potter believed that as long as he stayed away in his room, from his friends, they'd be safe. He already lost his parents, his godfather Sirius Black, and Cedric Diggory and he didn't want to go through it again.

The other side railed against the confinement, begging to be let out. It was the curious part of him that wanted to know what was going on, how his friends were and what they were up to. It was the side which told him the truth, which made him admit that it wasn't his fault that Sirius died, that it was _Voldemort's_. It was _always_ Voldemort's. Everything the Dark Lord touched, he destroyed. It was the side that wanted to be set free to fight, that knew he wasn't a normal boy, let alone a normal wizard, and would he please just accept it and stop drowning in self-pity?

Harry's emerald eyes glittered. _'Not just Voldemort's fault!'_ he thought. _'Dumbledore's too! If he hadn't kept so many secrets from me, it wouldn't be so bad!' _The second side of his mind fought that thought as well, still seeing Dumbledore as Harry used to know him; the kind old man who ate too many Muggle sweets and tried to let Harry be as normal a wizard as it was possible for him to be. The man who--

_'The man who betrayed me!' _Harry roared silently. He knew better than to yell out loud, because the Dursleys would come running, and possible Moody with them. _'I trusted him and he let me down!' _Hot tears trickled down his face, and Harry wiped them away. '_He hasn't even learned his lesson from last year! He's still keeping things from me!'_

The sensible side of Harry's mind reminded him this was for his own good, and it wouldn't do for the monster in his head to hear the Order's secrets and plans. But it aggravated Harry to get short letters that sounded like clones of previous ones sent. He knew his friends were being kept in the dark as well, and wanted to tell him everything, but at the moment Harry didn't feel like being sensible. He wanted to scream, to walk up to Voldemort and rip his head off, and to turn back time so he could kill Peter Pettigrew, a.k.a. Wormtail, when he had the chance. '_As much as Voldemort's done, that little rat is behind everything!' _Harry thought. In a way, Wormtail was worse than Voldemort. He had betrayed Harry's parents and Sirius, and released Voldemort on the world again.

No one knew where Voldemort was now, even Harry, and the Daily Prophet hadn't reported anything out of the ordinary. Harry practiced Occulmency night and day now, but was surprised at the lack of activity from Voldemort. He suspected the Dark Lord was saving up his strength and laying low for awhile.

Briefly, Harry's thoughts turned to Remus Lupin. With Sirius and Harry's father dead, Lupin was the last true Marauder left. In his (really long) letters, he didn't talk about himself, but he asked how Harry was coping with Padfoot's death and if he was eating enough, and usually wrote a little story about something the four Marauders did in their Hogwarts years. Harry knew it was because the only memory he knew of his father James was the one he found in Professor Snape's Pensieve, when James and Sirius were tormenting "Snivelus."

But instead of cheering Harry up, they made him even more depressed, to the point where even his aunt became concerned. She kept a hawk eye on him now, making sure he ate at least two thirds of the food she set in front of him and went outside at least twice a week. Aunt Petunia knew her family's safety depended on the protection Lily gave her son, but while his uncle and cousin ignored him most of the time, she was genuinely worried.

A soft tapping on the window drew Harry from his thoughts. The sky was dark now, but the light of the streetlamps highlighted Hedwig's ghostly white silhouette and the two letters in her beak. He got up and opened the window for her, and she swooped in and perched on his shoulder to nibble his ear, looking happy to see him.

"Hello Hedwig," Harry said. He tried to take his letters from his owl, and Hedwig gave him a look that reminded Harry of his friend Ron's mother at her sternest and pulled the letter away. Hedwig had picked up the strange habit that summer of playing keep-away with his mail, and would only give up her prizes if he told her what she wanted to know. When he hesitated, Hedwig pecked his ear. "Alright, alright," Harry said with a small smile. "I had seconds at dinner, I walked around this afternoon for three hours and practiced some more Occulmency, and I wrote a reply for Lupin. Happy now?" Hedwig looked as pleased as an owl could, and gave him his letters. Harry laughed, one of the few times he had this summer. "Patron saint of orphans, indeed!" Harry said aloud. "You're just as worried about me as everyone else, aren't you, Hedwig?" he added softly. Hedwig bobbed her head in an absolutely human gesture and nibbled his ear.

Harry picked up the first letter and looked at it. The writing was purple, and was written in large, showy handwriting, and had a triple "W" stamped on the back. Harry opened it and a coupon book to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and a letter.

'_Hey Harry! _

_Gred and Forge here! As you can see, we've finally opened up our own joke shop in Diagon. Mum's stopped bugging us about the shop since she saw how well we're doing, but she still wants to know who our number-one stockholder is._

_Sorry we haven't kept in touch. We're busy working on new bird products. The family is a bit disappointed they aren't allowed to write to you either, the chances of interception being what they are. _

_We know it's a little early, but we're going to swing by to pick you up after work next week, so you can see the Haunted House the family's cleaned up for Halloween. Dumbledore came by yesterday; he sends his greetings, and asked how you're holding up and if you got your OWL's._

Something purple was splattered all over the rest of the letter, and all Harry could make out were the words "See you later!" Even after being around the twins for four or so years, the letter sounded strange to Harry and he reread it twice, before he realized what they were really trying to say. "Bird products" were new inventions for the Order, and the "Haunted House" was Grimmauld Place.

Harry glanced at the second envelope. It had the Hogwarts seal, but it was Dumbledore's usual green ink and writing on the front. He rolled his eyes; most likely it was something from the Order. _'Another stupid letter scolding me, I bet,' _Harry thought. He started to open it, but a loud screech from Hedwig stopped him.

Hedwig's head was twisted around and she was staring at the window. Taking his cue from her, Harry drew his wand and mentally readied himself for a fight, sweeping his gaze up and down the street for trouble. When he didn't see anything, he looked down at his doorstep; when he didn't have trouble, Harry usually had visitors.

True to form, there were three dark figures standing in front of the door. The Dursleys had already noticed them, and were starting to panic. "BOY!" Vernon roared up the stairs, "COME DOWN HERE, NOW!" Harry knew now wasn't the time to disobey. Half-way down the stairs, Harry had to snicker as Dudley tore up past him, hands clamped firmly over his enormous rear. He still hadn't gotten over his fright from the Dementors, or Hagrid.

Downstairs, things were somewhat calmer. Harry poked his head into the living room, and saw Petunia sitting quietly in a chair in front of the TV, until he noticed how much she was shaking under the quilt she'd wrapped around herself. His uncle was standing by the door in the hallway; he looked worried, and kept glancing at the room where his wife was. "What are those, those _people_ doing here?" he hissed to Harry.

Harry shrugged. _'If they were Death Eaters, they'd have barged in right now,'_ he thought. But the last time the Advance Guard had come to get him, about seven people came, not three. And they didn't bother waiting outside. _'For all I know, they could just be waiting for us to open the door.'_ He wasn't sure how well the wards around the house would protect him, or what the rules were governing them. "They're probably here to get me." Harry said. He watched Vernon's face go from worried to dark with rage. _'Sooner or later, that man's going to give himself a stroke.' _

"Those freaks are NOT coming in!" He hissed, his eyes darting to the door again.

"Like you can stop them," Harry snapped. When Vernon started to protest, Harry told him to be quiet. "I have to make sure they aren't Death Eaters."

He raised his wand and crept to the door, pressing his ear against it. On the other side, someone muttered about being late, and was quickly shushed by the other two. "Who's there?" Harry asked through the door.

"It's Lupin, Arthur Weasley, and Tonks!" came the reply.

Vernon glanced at Harry, and he shook his head. "Lupin, what does my Patronus look like, and what did Moody do with his eye when you were here last?" If they were Death Eaters, there was a slim chance they could answer the first question, but the chances of getting the second would be non-existent.

"It's a stag, and he dropped it in a glass of water because it was sticking," said Lupin's voice. Before his uncle could object, Harry yanked the door open and the Order members stepped inside. Immediately, whatever nerves Uncle Vernon had left broke, and he fled to the kitchen. Harry snorted in disgust at his fleeing uncle's back, and led the way into the living room.

His aunt looked up when they came in; she had stopped shaking, but she was both angry and frightened, torn between glaring at them and running away, staring at the wizards with hard eyes. "What are you doing here?" Petunia demanded. "We've done nothing to him, not after you threatened us at King's Cross!"

Lupin wasn't fazed by the bite in her voice. "Relax. We're here to collect Harry, not hex you," he said. "He's going to stay with us for the rest of the summer." He looked a lot different from when Harry saw him last. He had gained weight for once, and there was less gray in his hair than before, but his eyes were dull when he looked at Harry's aunt.

The changes in Tonks and Mr. Weasley were slighter, but a little shocking just the same. Since she was a Metamorphagus, she could hide any changes in her outward appearance, but her eyes had lost some of their sparkle, and she had made the angles of her face harder. Harry could always tell her mood, because she unconsciously made her looks match it. As for his friend Ron's father, Mr. Weasley had lost some more hair, gained a few more lines in his face, and he looked like he wasn't getting enough sleep lately.

Tonks saw Harry was staring at them and gave him a smile and a wink. Then her smile faded. "Sorry we couldn't be here sooner. We've been having a bit of trouble with Talione. He doesn't trust us yet."

"Who's Talione?" Harry asked.

Tonks looked surprised. "Didn't you read my letter, Harry?"

"Hedwig came back a little less than ten minutes ago. I haven't had time to read it yet," Harry said.

Tonks groaned. "I was afraid you'd say that." She glanced at Lupin. "Do we have time to explain?"

Lupin glanced at the window, then at his watch. "No, we have to leave in a few minutes. Harry, are you all packed?" Harry shook his head, and Lupin made a gesture to Tonks, who promptly ran upstairs. Knowing how clumsy she was, Harry ran after her to make sure she didn't break anything.

Tonks put an Enlargement charm on his trunk, and Harry threw everything in he thought he'd need, not bothering to fold any of his clothes. Smaller items, like the Sirius' mirror went in the side pockets, and his Invisibility Cloak went in on the top. Tonks took care of the other half with a wave of her wand, and Harry watched as the mess crammed itself into the trunk with room to spare and nothing broken. Another spell cleaned Hedwig's cage; he waited until she glided out to perch on his shoulder, then put it in his trunk and locked it.

Hedwig hooted and eyed Tonks and her purple hair suspiciously. She stared back with a little smirk, and Hedwig was the first to look away. "Ready, Harry?" Tonks asked. He nodded. "_Locomotor trunk!_"

To Aunt Petunia's dismay, Moody had joined Lupin and Mr. Weasley in the hall by the time they returned. The three men were holding a whispered conversation; Moody's face was stormy, and his magic eye was trained on the windows. Then it spun around it its socket and looked at Harry, and Moody straightened. "About time, you two," he grumbled. "Beta team was ambushed. We'll have to transport Potter on our own."

At the word "ambushed" Harry's blood went cold. "Death Eaters? Was anyone killed?"

Petunia let out a squeak at that, but Moody shook his head. "Everyone Apparated to safety," he said. "And no, Petunia, they aren't going to come here if we get Potter away from here, fast." White as a sheet, Petunia glanced at Harry. "There's not enough time to fly there; it's too easy to get attacked in the air." Moody continued. "We'll have to use a Portkey. The others will join us on the way."

"Make sure your family stays inside tonight, no matter what." Lupin said. "Tomorrow, go to London and stay there for a few days. It will help throw the Death Eaters off the trail." Petunia nodded.

While Harry was distracted, Moody whacked his wand against the top of Harry's head to Disillusion him. Petunia squeaked again when Harry seemed to disappear into the background. Harry tried to blink the spots out of his vision. "Must you do that so hard?" Harry asked.

Moody ignored the question; he was already out the door with the others just behind him. Harry started to follow them, but his aunt saw the faint blur as he moved, and caught his arm. He looked back at her, and their eyes met. "Stay safe, Potter," his aunt said. "And good luck."

For once, Harry smiled at her. "Goodbye, Aunt Petunia. I'll see you next summer." She let go, and he ran after his friends.

(A/N: Reviews are appreciated, as I've spent two years trying to put this story together and still have plenty of mistakes. English readers, I'm counting on you to tell me if I need to change a word or two, as I have no grasp of European phrases. Thanks! )


	3. Changes in the Dog's House

(A/N: Any characters or settings that appear in the official Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling are hers. Everyone and everything else is my creation.)

**Chapter 2: In the Dog House**

Lupin, Mr. Weasley, and Tonks were standing around waiting for Harry in front of the house when he ran out. Moody had disappeared, but Kingsley Shacklebolt and Bill Weasley had joined them. Bill was listening to something Kingsley was whispering in his ear, but Bill waved at Harry when he saw him. "Where's Moody?" Harry asked.

"He Apparated to Grimmauld to tell Molly we're going to be early." Mr. Weasley said. "Bill and Remus are going with you by Portkey--" Lupin held up part of an old newspaper "--while the rest of us sweep the neighborhood again."

"Isn't the Ministry still watching those?" Harry asked. It wasn't like Fudge to suddenly OK everything, even if he had learned last month that Harry and the Order were right about Voldemort's return.

Mr. Weasley nodded. "It is. But most of the Magic Transportation Department work for us now." he said. "So I convinced them to look the other way this time." Bill frowned and started to add something rude about the Minister, but was silenced by a look from his father. He rolled his eyes and grabbed a corner of the paper Lupin was holding. Harry quickly grabbed the handle of his trunk and another corner of the paper. A second later, he felt the familiar tug of the Portkey, and the street dissolved in a flash of light and color.

&&&

When the world stopped spinning and it was safe for him to stand up without retching, Harry looked around. The street was dark except for a single streetlamp flickering at the other end of the street, but Harry could still make out the front of Sirius' house as it appeared, shoving the two houses beside it apart. Harry stared at the building, expecting to feel sorrow at the sight, but it was like he'd used up all of his grief and anger over the previous weeks; all he could feel was a numb dismay at being there.

Bill was already moving to the door, but paused and looked back when he realized the other two weren't following him. "Go inside, Bill," Lupin said. "We'll be a minute." Bill shrugged and gave Harry a half-expected-but-still-detested look of sympathy, then disappeared into the house.

"I know it's painful being here again," he said softly, "Sirius deeded the house to Tonks in his will, so it could be kept in the family somewhat, and continue being used as headquarters. It's still the only safe place for us to meet." Harry didn't stood as still and deaf as stone, but he jumped when Lupin touched his shoulder. "Harry, are you alright?" he asked. Harry made a noise he hoped sounded like a yes, his eyes still on the house. Lupin sighed. "You haven't been listening to a word I said, have you?" When Harry didn't answer that question either Lupin raised his wand.

The solid whack Lupin gave Harry's head with his wand to Disillusion him jolted the boy out of his morbid thoughts. "OW! Did you have to hit so hard?" Harry asked.

Lupin rolled his eyes and gave Harry a small push towards the door. "C'mon, Harry. Your friends are waiting for you inside." Harry took the hint and went inside. Lupin followed, dragging Harry's trunk behind him.

The inside of the Black house was far different from when Harry last saw it. A new red carpet had replaced the old threadbare one, and the walls were freshly painted in bright blue. The old portraits still hung on the walls, but there was a new chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and everything with a snake on it was gone, as were the cobwebs and the musty smell that hung around the house the last time Harry was in it.

"What happened here?" Harry asked.

He saw Lupin smile for the first time that night. "Molly happened. In his will, Sirius said the Order could use the house under two conditions; that it was fixed up as brightly as possible and that we keep Kreacher alive as long as possible." he said.

At the last second, Harry noticed the moth-eaten curtains still hung in the hall and assumed she was still there. "What!" he hissed, trying to keep his voice low. "Why would Sirius want to do that?"

"Sirius thought keeping Kreacher alive and working for Tonks would be the worst possible punishment we could give him." Lupin said. "Most of the Order wanted to modify his memory at least, or kill him anyway."

"Is that _thing_ still here?" Harry asked. If he saw Kreacher running around he was going to wring the vermin's neck.

Lupin shook his head. "While we were debating, Kreacher went upstairs to clean." he said. "And from what we could piece together from the racket they were making, he walked into Talione's room while the boy was in it."

_'That name again,' _Harry thought_. 'Who is he?'_

"Talione chased him out, and Kreacher tried to get away from him by running into Buckbeak's room." Lupin said. Harry winced; he could guess what happened next. Buckbeak hated Kreacher just as much as everyone else. "And, well, when Buckbeak got done with him, nothing was left but an ear and the rag Kreacher wore."

The door at the end of the hall opened, and Harry heard the faint sound of voices before Mrs. Weasley emerged. Stress and worry made her even thinner than when Harry saw her last, but she brightened when she saw him. "Harry! How are you dear?" she whispered, giving Harry one of her infamous bone-crushing hugs.

"I'm fine," Harry croaked, trying to breathe.

She let go and stepped back, looking him over critically. Then she smiled. "I see your relatives are finally feeding you properly."

"Aunt Petunia watched me like a hawk," Harry admitted. He decided to change the subject. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

Mrs. Weasley pointed to the stairs. "They're upstairs with the others." To Lupin, she said, "The meeting's about to start. Dumbledore's waiting for us." She didn't mean to sound dismissing, but Harry knew he wasn't allowed to listen to the Order meetings He sighed, picked up his trunk, and went upstairs. The second floor was as brightly painted as the first, only there was **more** color in it. The hallway was deep red, but it was slashed through with loops and swirls of yellow, purple and blue that swirled into the shape of a large colorful dog at the end of the hall. The overall effect made the hallway look like it was painted by a five-year old, but Harry knew Sirius would've loved it.

"Ron? Hermione?" Harry called. "Ginny?" One of the doors down the hall opened, and young man stepped out. Since he didn't recognize him, Harry assumed this was Talione.

He wore a shirt and jeans like Harry, with a leather jacket over them. He was a few inches shorter than Harry, who had grown some more, and his hair was dark brown and a little on the long side. Even though they were indoors Talione's eyes were covered by tinted blue sunglasses. He was paging through a book, and as Harry watched, he pulled the pencil out and scribbled on a page. _"Nansi nol anras," _he muttered, flipping to a different section in the book. "_Quaea de'ara?"_

"Do you know where my friends are?" Harry asked.

His question startled Talione; in a second he dropped his book, and snapped the sides of his wrists together. Harry heard a loud click, and two knives fell out of Talione's sleeves and into his hands. Before Harry could draw his wand in defense, Talione had covered the distance between them and had both knives crossed within an inch of Harry's neck. "Tell me who you are!" Talione commanded. His voice was colder than ice. "How did you get in here?"

Something about Talione's voice was off, but Harry couldn't put his finger on it. "The Advance Guard brought me," he said. "I'm--"

Before he could introduce himself, they heard footsteps, and Harry turned his head to see Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger halfway down the stairs. Hermione looked shocked, but Ron looked furious. "Talione, you stupid git, that's Harry!" he shouted. Ron took the rest of the stairs two at a time, ready for a fight. "What are you _doing_?"

Talione looked surprised. "This can't be Harry, I was told he wasn't coming for another week." he said. When Ron still looked angry, he added "Relax, I didn't hurt him!"

Hermione recovered her wits and ran after Ron, grabbing his shoulder just before he punched Talione in the face. "Ron!" she said, trying to keep her voice calm, "He didn't know. Leave him alone."

Ron shook Hermione's hand off, but didn't punch the other boy. "Put those stupid things away!" he snapped, pointing to Talione's knives. "That _is _Harry Potter, and he's not early, he was supposed to come tonight!"

Harry felt like an actor who walked onstage in the middle of a play and didn't know his lines. Clearly, Talione had already made an enemy out of Ron; the only times Harry saw his friend acting like that were in the presence of Slytherins.

"Sorry, Talione," Hermione said, "But Harry's arrival was supposed to be a surprise."

Behind his glasses, Talione's eyes narrowed. "Clearly! I almost took his head off!" he said. He kept a far tighter leash on his temper than Ron, but Harry could tell he was still irritated at his mistake. "And how was I supposed to know who he was? I've never seen him in my life!"

The comment stunned Harry's friends. "Not one picture?" Hermione asked. "He's famous; you should've seen him _somewhere_."

Talione shook his head. "The U.S. was left alone in the last war," he said. "Voldemort was more interested in conquering Europe at the time. I didn't hear of a word about him or Harry until two years ago, when he reappeared." He tapped the book he held with a finger. "I've been going through Mr. Black's library since I got here, trying to catch up." His voice warmed a little, and a faint smile appeared on his face. "It's pretty interesting. Your magic is so much different that what I was taught."

"I thought wizards around the world were taught almost the same things." Hermione said. "What were you taught?"

Talione's smile disappeared, and his expression became guarded. "If Professor Dumbledore wins, you'll find out soon enough." he said.

"What do you mean, if?" Ron demanded. "Of course Dumbledore will win! He's not going to let the Minister push him around!"

Talione reversed his grip on the knives in his hands and returned them to his sleeves, ignoring Ron's outburst. To Harry he said, "You just arrived; I expect you'll want to catch up with your friends. If you need me, I'll be in my room." He turned around and disappeared into one of the doors he had passed when he confronted Harry.

"Congratulations, Harry," said Ron. "That's the longest conversation the he's had with any of us except Dumbledore."


	4. Explanations and Eldraeli

(A/N: Any characters or settings that appear in the official Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling are hers. Everyone and everything else is my creation. And if I do stick something in that belongs to yet another person, they will be duly credited.)

(May be a little boring with all the gabbing, but it's important gabbing: Harry learns more about Talione. This chapter was in two parts on paper, but was too short on-screen so I stuck them together.)

**Chapter 3: Explanations and Eldraeli**

As soon as Ron said that, Hermione looked like she wanted to slap him. "Well, he'd talk to us more if you weren't giving him a hard time!" she hissed, trying to keep her voice low. "What's your problem, Ron? You're acting like he's Malfoy!"

"He's worse than Malfoy!" Ron snapped. "He's a–"

"If you two are going to have another fight," Harry said a little crossly, "I'm going to go unpack."

Only Hermione looked embarrassed. "Sorry, Harry. I'm really happy you're here, but it's been rough recently," she said. She ran a hand through her bushy hair and sighed. "I'm going to bed. Stay out of trouble, you two. Goodnight."

Ron was still a little angry, but he nodded. Hermione gave them a half-hearted smile and went into the room across from Talione's, slamming the door behind her. "What was that about?" Harry asked.

Ron put a finger to his lips, and picked up one end of Harry's trunk, gesturing for Harry to follow him. "C'mon Harry," he said aloud, "Your room's upstairs." Harry picked up the other end of his trunk and Hedwig's cage and followed Ron up to the third floor.

The redecorating hadn't reached up here; there was still dirty paint peeling from the walls and cobwebs everywhere. At the top of the stairs, Harry saw his name in blue letters on the door to the right, and Ron's in red on the left. "You were supposed to stay in the same room as last time," Ron said, "But Tonks' house was destroyed by Death Eaters and we had to put her in your old room. Talione doesn't come up here a lot—he's allergic to all the dust-- so we have some privacy."

He opened the door with Harry's name on it and both of them went in. There was a pause, and Ron cursed as he bumped into something in the dark. "Dad found a manual during one of his raids and fixed up parts of the house for eleck… er, ecl-"

"Electricity?" Harry suggested.

Ron nodded. "Hermione and I helped fix up your room when he was done. What do you think?" he asked. There was a click, and light flooded the room.

The room was bare except for a dresser, a bed, and an armchair in the room, all with Gryffindor's colors. Three of the walls were red and gold as well, but the fourth wall was painted to show the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch. Painted over the Pitch were two teams, red and green, and someone had charmed them to zoom around on their broomsticks. "It's amazing!" Harry said.

Ron's ears turned pink. "Hermione asked Moody to use the charm for the wall. We thought watching Malfoy get beaten over and over would cheer you up a little," he said. "But there's something else we asked Lupin to add, too." He tapped the nearest wall and said, "Dumbledore's Army." A blaze of gold light rippled around the walls from where he touched, and the walls turned light blue and the Pitch scene was replaced by blueprints of Grimmauld Place with little dots moving around in each room.

"It's a variation of the Marauder Map and Imperntable charm," Ron said. "No one can get in at all, and it makes the room safe from eavesdropping until the password's repeated. But Remus charmed the map to show everyone in the house that you know about. People in the Order you haven't met yet aren't shown."

Hedwig left Harry's shoulder and glided to the top of the dresser with a hoot. Harry set down his luggage and stared at Ron, stunned. All he could say was, "Why?"

Ron sighed and flopped down on Harry's bed. "We needed a place to talk where the others couldn't hear us," he said. "Our fight, Hermione's storming off, was an act for Talione to hear in case he was still listening." He was unusually serious, and Harry realized his friend had grown up a lot in the past couple months. He was still hot-tempered, but when he spoke, he was a completely different person from what Harry knew. "Have a seat, this might take awhile."

Harry sat in the armchair, watching Ron. "Hermione thought I might botch the explanation, but she had to tell Ginny in about something." He grimaced, briefly reverting to his old self. "What do you know about Talione, Harry?"

"Nothing," Harry replied. "I haven't read Tonks' letter yet."

Ron looked surprised. "Didn't any of the others tell you something?"

"Are you kidding?" Harry said. "Moody would skin them alive if they talked about valuable information except in "Headquarters"."

"I'll start at the beginning then," Ron said. "All we know is what Dumbledore told us before Talione arrived. So don't yell at us later." It was a less than subtle reminder to Harry of the previous year, when he yelled at his friends for keeping information from him.

Harry nodded, a little irritated, but kept his mouth shut.

**Chapter 3, Part 2:**

"A few nights after our fight in the Ministry, Death Eaters attacked Talione's wizard school in Arizona—Dumbledore called it Eldraeli, I think--looking for something. It was the last week of school for them, so the students were all still there. The Death Eaters tore the place apart; only Talione and four other students and three professors survived."

Ron paused, and said, "Tonks was one of the ones sent from our Ministry when the other one found out "our Death Eaters" attacked the school. She found Talione in one of the towers, holding a bloody sword and surrounded by several dead Death Eaters. Every last one of them was either stabbed, or burnt to a crisp, but the rest of the room wasn't touched, and Talione couldn't remember the attack or how he got in the tower."

"He was probably in shock," Harry said. He'd heard from Kingsley once that it blackouts happened sometimes to new Aurors after their first battle. A few wouldn't remember it for days.

Ron shook his head. "He still doesn't remember, and Dumbledore said it might be a suppressed memory." he said. He shrugged and continued. "The American Ministry tried transferring Talione to a different school, but no one wanted to take him." Ron said. "There were rumors that he was cursed and the attack was his fault."

"Why?" Harry asked. "It's not like he got a lightning-bolt scar, too."

"Supposedly, he knew where and what the Death Eaters were looking for," Ron said. "Fred and George said the Order thinks it could be a real weapon this time. Some kind of power amplifier. Moody thinks Talione _does_ know what it is, but Talione won't tell them. He doesn't trust the Order yet."

Harry was dismayed by that. Voldemort was a much more experienced wizard than he was, and the weapon could given Harry the edge he needed. "How's Fudge taking the news?" he asked, referring to the Minister of Magic. He was regretting canceling his subscription to the _Daily Prophet_. He wanted to know how Fudge was handling the revelation that what Dumbledore, the Order and Harry said about Voldemort's return was true. _'Bloody politics,' _Harry thought. There was too much in-fighting on their side. The Ministry was necessary as an ally against Voldemort, but with Fudge still hammering away at Dumbledore (though mmore quietly now), and possible Death Eaters in the Ministry offices, it was hopeless too. He wondered how Dumbledore did it—all the political maneuvering, while still running the Order and Hogwarts.

"Dad says Fudge is just barely hanging onto his job these days, after what happened with the cover-up and Umbridge. If he really finds a weapon, the wizard world might be too grateful to kick him out of office." Ron said. "Most of us can't stand putting up with him anymore. The day after our fight, Fred and George sent him a Howler saying "Told you so!" and telling him how much of a git he was."

"Is Percy still working for him?" Harry asked.

Ron scowled. "Yes. And not even because Fudge is using him to spy on Dad and the Order anymore. He knows Dad is one of Dumbledore's strongest supporters, and that the whole family except Percy backs Dumbledore and Dad. Fudge's keeping Percy as his assistant because to him, even one of us against Dad is a victory to him," he said.

"I can't believe Percy still supports him," Harry said disgustedly.

Ron's face brightened a little. "No. He was as stunned as everyone else when he heard Fudge was told about Voldemort's return and still tried to cover it up by disgracing you and Dumbledore. Percy apologized to the Dad and the Order the day after we left Hogwarts." he said. "Fudge doesn't know it, but he works for the Order now too."

Despite the look on Ron's face, Harry started laughing. After how nasty Ron's older brother was during the events of last year, Percy Weasley working for the Order was as likely as pigs flying. Or—"What's next, Luna showing us photos of a real live Snorcack?"

Ron's scowl vanished and he chuckled. "Or Moldiwort in his underwear."

"What did you call him?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Moldiwort," Ron repeated. He rolled his eyes. "Dumbledore's been after us to stop calling Him You-Know-Who. Fear of a name increasing fear of the things itself, and all that. I still can't say the real name, but corny nicknames are even better. Like Moldiwort."

"Or Who-Bloody-Cares?" Harry asked. He preferred calling Voldemort Voldemort, or Tom like Dumbledore, but he could see the fun in making up new names.

"I got a better one," Ron said, starting to laugh again. "He-Who's-Name-We-Forgot."

"Or the Dim Lord." Harry was starting to cheer up again.

"He-Who-Got-His-Arse-Kicked-By-A-Baby." Ron said. Harry's brief good mood popped like a balloon. That one reminded him too much of what Dumbledore said about the wards around the Dursleys house and why they were possible, and the Prophecy. _'He's tried to kill me since I was a year old,' _Harry thought. _'And one of us has to kill the other to survive.'_

_Do you know why he attacked me in the first place? _Harry started to ask, but was interrupted by a knock on the door, and Mrs. Weasley's voice. "Ron, I know you're still in there, charm or not. Go to bed."

Ron rolled his eyes. "We're almost 16," he complained. "She really should stop that." But he tapped the wall and repeated the password so the Quidditch scene and red-gold walls returned. "Talione has to go to the Ministry tomorrow morning to fill out paperwork so he can remain here until he finishes school. We won't be able to talk in privacy until then."

He got up to leave, and Harry waited until he was almost out the door before he stopped him. "Ron, did you know you said Voldemort's real name without flinching?" Ron stared at him a moment in disbelief, then left. Harry heard a whoop in the hall, before Ron slammed his door.

(Santa Claus: Thanks for pointing out my mistake! Yes, I meant Arthur had NOT been getting enough sleep in chapter 2. I blame lack of sleep.)

(PS: I have noticed that some words are getting stucktogether as well, but can't figure out how, because it only happens when I finish editing and actually post it.)


	5. Questions and More Questions

(A/N: Any characters or settings that appear in the official Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling are hers. Everyone and everything else is my creation. And if I do stick something in that belongs to yet another person, they will be duly credited.)

**Chapter 4: Questions and More Questions**

Harry lay awake in bed for a long time after Ron left, his recent conversation with his friend, memories of the past year, and his encounter with Talione spinning through his head. Even after what Ron did tell him, he still had too many questions. What happened to Umbridge? Forget hanging onto it, why hadn't Fudge lost him job already? What was Voldemort up to?

The last one worried him. Since Voldemort's possession of him in the Department of Mysteries, Harry hadn't had a single vision or even a twinge in his scar. Voldemort was remaining low on the Potter radar. He hadn't even felt anything regarding Eldraeli. Harry wondered why; something as big as a wizard school being destroyed by Death Eaters was bound to have Voldemort laughing at least. Or angry, if the Death Eaters really didn't find what they sought. _Something _that would've had Harry on the floor in agony, and informed him of what Voldemort was up to. His attempts to clear his mind weren't much more successful outside Hogwarts than in it.

Harry knew better than to think about the weapon Ron mentioned. He'd have to talk to Dumbledore about that. And about Talione. Ron's explanation for why Talione was there was flimsy. Even if Voldemort himself was there, a group of Death Eaters could not have taken on a bunch of professors and at least a hundred students and leave eight survivors, three of which were adults. Certainly not if they lost a bunch of their own in the attack, even if it was to Talione.

He rolled over and stared at the wall with the Quidditch match on it. He was beginning to feel the onset of a migraine from all the questions pestering him.

'_Why is Talione even at here?_' Surely Dumbledore could still protect him outside of Order headquarters. And what did Ron mean, "He's worse than Malfoy?" Only Voldemort and Wormtail were worse than Malfoy, and Wormtail was only because of how far into the Dark Arts he went, and how much he had betrayed Harry's parents and the Order in the first war. Harry knew Wormtail didn't have any close relatives still alive by this point, which left—'_Impossible,' _Harry thought. Talione couldn't be a relative of Voldemort's; Voldemort had killed his parents before he came to power the first time. And Harry was sure Voldemort didn't have any other relatives, or they'd be dead too.

Harry sat up and ran a hand through his hair. It was looking like he was in for another sleepless night. He knew he could easily read Tonks' letter and find some of his answers there, but he wasn't sure he wanted to anymore. It would probably repeat what Ron said, and talk about Sirius, or other things Harry didn't want to think about, like Umbridge or the prophecy.

He fumbled around for his glasses and put them on, then tiptoed to the door. All he heard were Ron's snores through the door across the hall and a sleepy hoot from the top of the wardrobe where Hedwig's cage sat. "I'll be back later, Hedwig," he said softly. "I can't sleep." It was a little strange talking to Hedwig that way but Harry had stopped caring about it years ago. When he was cooped up at the Dursleys, talking to Hedwig was always better than talking to himself. There was another hoot and a rustle as Hedwig settled down again. Harry went out into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

He decided to go down to the kitchen. A mug of hot chocolate usually made him feel better. He listened for a few seconds to Ron's snores from the other room then went downstairs to the second floor. There was a faint beam of light under Talione's door; for a moment, Harry toyed with the idea of going over there and demanding answers from him directly, then decided against it. Talione had been through enough already, between the attack and moving to England. Harry knew what it was like to have with ghosts; Talione probably wasn't talking to the Order because he needed more time to cope with what happened.

Harry went the rest of the way to the basement kitchen, and was surprised to see a light under that door too. He opened it and saw Talione sitting in front of a short stack parchment with some quills and ink, an old towel, and a box. The room was lit by a good-sized fire in the hearth and in the light Harry could see black smudges on Talione's nose and hands. He was still wearing his glasses, and he had his jacket on over his pajamas.

"Couldn't sleep, Harry?" Talione asked without looking up. Harry shut the door behind him and nodded. Talione gestured to the box in front of him. "I prefer the Muggle instant stuff, but if you want to make your own hot chocolate, there's water boiling on the stove. It should be done in a minute."

Harry shrugged. Usually when he drank it, it was conjured with magic, but the rules against underage magic still applied for something as small as that. "Instant's fine," he said. "What are you doing down here? I saw a light on in your bedroom. I didn't expect to see you down here."

"I must've left the lamp on." Talione said absently. "There was always someone who needed the light on to study. I got used to it." There was a whistle from the teakettle on the stove, and Talione wiped his hands on the towel and got up to remove it. He rummaged in the cabinets, then pulled down two mugs, tossed one to Harry and returned to the table. "Besides, I couldn't sleep if I wanted to. It's the house. Feels…_off, _somehow. Wrong, strange, whatever that word is." he said, pulling two packets out of the box. He opened them and poured the chocolate powder into the mugs and added the water. "Gives me the creeps."

Harry thought he sounded a little like Luna Lovegood. "What's wrong with the house?" Harry asked. It had the most of his memories of Sirius, and even though his godfather hated it here, he still felt he had to defend it. But his lack of sleep was making him irritable and he didn't realize he snapped the words until Talione raised an eyebrow at him.

Talione sipped his drink and made a face when he burned his tongue. "Nothing's wrong with it. I like old houses, especially the wizard kind. But the magic here, it's tainted. Like an oil slick on top of water. It feels like there's something under the surface here, something evil and hissing waiting to strike us down in our sleep," he said, and shuddered. "There's so much pain here. It's disturbing."

Harry almost choked on his hot chocolate. Talione had given the house the evil description, but it was scary how much it also fit Voldemort. "Well, the rest of Sirius' family was mostly Death Eaters and dark wizards," he said, remembering the tapestry upstairs with all of the burn marks over the names of people who Mrs. Black hated. "Probably ghost residue."

"Mr. Lupin told me," Talione said. "He also said the Malfoys were part of it. Is one of them the Draco Hermione mentioned?

Harry nodded. "An enemy at school in our year. Is this about what Ron said?"

"Ron said I'm worse than a known Death Eater's son, so, yeah it is." Talione was still calm, like he didn't care. "I think he's just overprotective of Ginny. He doesn't like that I talk to her." He suddenly laughed, a loud sound in the large kitchen. "The seventh child of a seventh son, and instead of a boy, it's a girl. Mr. Weasley must've had quite the shock!" he said. "In kids stories, they're usually spinning straw into gold and charming the moon out of the sky. Or talking to snakes."

Talione didn't notice Harry's grimace when he mentioned snakes. Harry smiled a little and shrugged. When he was younger he read similar stories. "No, her only real powers are her Bat-Bogey hex and the temper she inherited. She's scarier than her mother sometimes," he commented, remembering the times he saw or heard Mrs. Weasley upbraiding someone (usually her sons) for their behavior. "Why doesn't Ron like you talking to Ginny?"

Talione looked uncomfortable with the question. "Probably because I asked if she was seeing anyone. I was only curious since she's was the only person I thought I could talk to, but Ron blew up in my face and told me to stay the away from her," he said. "He never did answer my question."

Harry tried not to laugh at the look on his face. "Ron does that sometimes. He doesn't want to see her get hurt; none of her brothers do," he said. "And yes, she's going out with Dean Thomas. He's another sixth year in our House." He thought for a second and asked, "If she's the only one you can talk to, why are you talking to me?"

Talione rolled his eyes. "Questions, questions! No wonder you couldn't sleep; you were planning an interrogation!" he said. He laughed and leaned back in his chair. "Tell you what, Harry. It's late, and I have to get some more sleep before I go to the Ministry later. So I'll answer your question and another if you'll answer mine, and then I'm going back to bed. Deal?"

"Any topic but Voldemort."

"Alright," Talione agreed, "But that means nothing about Eldraeli either. Anything else is within limits."

"Of course." Harry tried to hide his frustration at that. Most of the questions he wanted to ask dealt with Eldraeli one way or another.

"To answer your question, I think I only talk to you because you two have seen and experienced more than the others, barring only Mr. Lupin and Mad-Eye." Talione said. He hesitated and added, "More than is good for you, even." He smothered a jaw-cracking yawn and gestured for Harry to continue.

Harry thought the situation was like the story of the genie in the lamp that granted three wishes; only now it was questions. The way Talione spoke made him think of even more questions to ask, and from the look in his eyes, Talione knew it. Harry had to choose his last one carefully. "About the house earlier," Harry finally said. "How can you know about something like that?"

A smile flickered across Talione's face. "I expected that one." he said. "I was told it has to do with the vibrations in magic used by different wizards. By changing the learning and training a wizard or witch goes through, their magic will evolve differently. I guess mine's just picking up things yours doesn't." He glanced around the room. "Although in this house, I wish I wouldn't."

A log in the fire broke apart with a loud pop, and they both jumped. Talione shrugged off his surprise quickly. "My turn. What's your opinion about Cornelius—what was his name, had to do with candy—Chocolate?"

Harry laughed. "Cornelius Fudge."

"Yes, that's it," Talione said, looking a little embarrassed. "What's your opinion about Minister Fudge? I'm supposed to meet him tomorrow."

Harry was surprised at Talione's choice of things to ask, and he scowled, remembering what Fudge did through the last year. "I thought he was nice at first, but he's a giant git. He tried to take over Hogwarts and ruin Dumbledore's reputation and mine because it was easier to do that then tell the world Voldemort was back," he said. "Fudge just thought it was a plan by Dumbledore to take the Ministry position, even though Dumbledore never wanted it."

Talione frowned. "And here I was looking forward to seeing the Ministry later." He shrugged and finished the rest of his hot chocolate. "But Tonks promised to show me around Muggle London a bit afterwards, so the whole day won't be wasted. I've wanted to see Big Ben and the Tower of London since I was six." He stood and gathered up his things. "Are you staying for awhile, or should I put the fire out?" he asked.

"Staying."

"Alright then." Talione was halfway to the door when he stopped and turned around. "You and I never had a real introduction, did we?" he said. He shifted the stuff he was carrying and held out a hand for Harry to shake. "I'm Talione Riddle." Harry shook Talione's hand automatically, but he was a little shocked. Yet it confirmed some of the ideas plaguing Harry. How many other people were there in the world with Voldemort's surname?

If Talione noticed Harry's distress, he hid it. "Goodnight, Harry." He left, and Harry heard his footsteps moving up the stairs.

"Goodnight," Harry repeated, scowling at the fire. "How am I supposed to have a good night now?" He had even more questions than when he started.

(Sorry, I had to remove and repost it because I found a few holes that needed to be fixed. Please review! So far, I've only had one, and would like to see some more, so I know whether or not to continue this over Christmas break. Thanks!)


	6. The Ministry

(Disclaimer: Any characters or settings that appear in the official Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling are hers. Everyone and everything else is my creation. And if I do stick something in that belongs to yet another person, they will be duly credited.)

(AN: From here on, the POV's might change from chapter to chapter. And as I am now using another symbol, here's the key as is:

'' thoughts,

Talione's strange language in Talione's POV. If another's POV, it's just weird gibberish in italics. (Like in Chapter 2.)

(AN2: I don't have my books with me right now, so bear with me, and point out my mistakes.)

**Chapter 5: The Ministry**

Early morning sunlight fell across Talione's eyes, waking him. After his little chat with Potter, he had opened the curtains so the sunlight would wake him with plenty of time to get ready for his trip to the Ministry with Mr. Weasley, but now he cursed the early hour. Without opening his eyes, he rolled over and reached for his jacket which he left on the table beside his bed. English summers were colder than the ones he was used to; in Grimmauld Place, putting his jacket on was the first thing he did every morning when he got up. But instead of leather, his fingers brushed against a slip of paper. Surprised, he opened his eyes to read it.

_Fudge approved your request for a permit to do magic yesterday, but there's been a change of plans today. I'll explain when you come down for breakfast. Molly_

Talione groaned. He forgot about applying for a permit. It was one of the first things he did when he arrived, as well as going through documents arranging for him to live in Europe under Dumbledore's guardianship. He needed the permit to catch up on some of the spells the Hogwarts students learned that he hadn't, so he'd be caught up by the time the new semester—_'term'_—started.

He threw the note aside and got out of bed. He highly valued his privacy, and Mrs. Weasley was the only one he ever allowed in his room besides post owls, but looking around the room, he wished he didn't. Before or after she left the note, she'd tidied his room up a bit-- he couldn't see his daggers anywhere, his jacket was folded neatly on top of the wooden chair in the corner, and the various things he left out so he could get ready were missing.

He grumbled a bit and rummaged around. The daggers were in the bottom drawer of the dresser, still in the arm guards. Talione had designed and spelled them himself; the only way to get the daggers out was to tap the catches on each together, and the spell keeping the knives in place would dissolve. When he was done, replacing the daggers activated the spell again.

Talione pulled the daggers out and threw them on his bed, then looked around for some clean clothes. He found a shirt and another pair of jeans folded in another drawer and changed, mentally counting down the days until he could visit Diagon Alley for some new clothes that fit him. The Muggle clothes he had were some of the few things that survived the mess the Death Eaters made of his dormitory and used to belong to his friend Aram.

He fastened the daggers over his forearms and pulled the jacket on over them. Besides hiding the blades, his jacket did double duty hiding his wrinkled shirt. Talione made a mental note to ask Mrs. Weasley about a few charms for his clothes, to keep them in good condition until he could get the new ones. He snapped his wrists together to test the holsters, and felt the one above his left wrist catch on the blade. With a sigh, he pulled the holster off and adjusted it, then put it back on. This time it worked and he put his dagger back and started hunting around for a comb. I really have to tell Mrs. Weasley not to touch my stuff, he muttered.

He found the comb in his trunk on top of his books and journals. He picked up the comb and crossed the room to the mirror. He took a shower last night before he went to bed, but hadn't bothered drying it and now it stuck out all over the place. Underneath his hair, two bright gold eyes stared back. Before Eldraeli was destroyed, the gold color had been a faint annoyance to Talione. Now they were dangerous, making him stand out in a crowd and easy to spot by any Death Eaters who were looking to pick off the survivors of their attack.

Talione glared at his reflection and tugged the comb through his hair, then turned away from it and put on his glasses. Dumbledore had charmed them so anyone looking straight at his eyes would think they were brown. Only Dumbledore, Tonks, and Moody—who's magic eye saw through the charm immediately—knew about Talione's eyes, and Dumbledore of them told him to wear the glasses at all times for his own protection, at least until he reached Hogwarts.

Talione finished getting ready and went downstairs to the kitchen, careful not to disturb the portrait behind the curtain. When he reached the door he heard a low gravely rumble. He pushed the door open and saw Mrs. Weasley, and Mad-Eye Moody sitting at the table. The old Auror was in a business suit instead of wizard robes and was fiddling with a tie around his neck, looking annoyed. There was a bowler hat on the table in front of him. "Good morning." he said.

"Good morning, Talione," Mrs. Weasley said. "You're up early!"

"I didn't know when Mr. Weasley was leaving," Talione said. "I found your note. What's up?"

"Fudge called most of the Ministry in early today," Moody growled before she could answer. "The Aurors caught two new wizards wearing the Dark Mark and a woman who was with them. New recruits of You-Know-Who's. Arthur was one of the ones called in early, so I'm taking you to the Ministry today."

Talione pulled out a chair and sat down. "Alright," he said. "But how is that a change of plans?"

"Tonks won't be able to show you around London afterwards, either; she and Kingsley are dealing with the Death Eaters." Mrs. Weasley explained. "Moody's going to bring you back here instead." Talione was a little disappointed, but he hid it.

"Also, the Minister said he might not meet you today. You're supposed to talk to Alan Turner in the International Magic Law department instead," Moody added. "He wants you to take a look at the Death Eaters, see if you recognize them."

"Are we using Muggle transport?" Talione asked.

"The Underground," Moody growled. "Since you can't Apparate yet." Talione could see in the old Auror's face that he thought the subway was a bad idea. He felt the same way; it was too public, too open to attack from Death Eaters who didn't care about bystanders.

Sometime while they were talking, Mrs. Weasley had put the teakettle on, and now it whistled. She poured herself and Moody a cup of tea, but there wasn't tea in the cup she put in front of Talione. It smelled like fresh-- "Coffee!" he exclaimed. One of the things he noticed at breakfast in Grimmauld Place was everyone drinking juice or tea and he thought it was rude to ask for anything else. "Where did you get it? I didn't know there was any here!"

Mrs. Weasley smiled and Moody chuckled, his scarred face creasing in a grin. "Surprise! Alan's daughter said you might want something from home." he said. "She also got you something else, but wanted to surprise you with it at the Ministry. She works with her father, so you can meet her when we go to the Ministry."

"_After_ he's eaten breakfast," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. "What would you like, Talione? Toast, kippers, bacon, eggs?"

"Toast and eggs sound good, thanks." Talione said. He had stayed at Grimmauld Place for nine days now, and was still unsure of what kippers were.

While Mrs. Weasley cooked, Moody filled Talione in on Fudge's activities for the last year, so he'd know what to expect just in case Fudge decided to meet with Talione anyway. From what he heard, Talione already disliked the Minister. Who could like a man who sicced someone like Dolores Umbridge on Hogwarts? "Whatever you do," Moody warned, "don't lose your temper."

The last time Talione could remember losing his temper—not just irritation or annoyance, but full-blown _fury_—was a year and a half ago. "Piece of cake."

"No, it's not a "piece of cake"," Moody said sharply. "Fudge may be an incompetent Minister, but he's backed into a corner and desperate to keep his position. And he knows the rumors about you," he added. "Not just the one saying you're cursed."

Talione winced. He knew what Moody meant; the rumors that Talione was the reason the Death Eaters crossed the ocean to attack an American school for the first time. Talione suspected it had to do with the gaping hole in his memory during the time of the attack. "But I don't know anything!" he said. He was getting frustrated with people saying he was the cause for what happened to Eldraeli. _'It's not my fault!'_

"The Minister doesn't know that," Mrs. Weasley said, setting his plate down in front of him. "These days the only things he cares about are defeating Voldemort and Dumbledore with him."

"Alright, alright," Talione said, "I'll be careful."

To his relief, Mrs. Weasley changed the conversation, and Talione concentrated on eating his breakfast. He ate a little faster than usual; the sooner he went to the Ministry and met Alan and did whatever he had to do, the sooner he could return. Talione wouldn't put it past Ron or one of the others to break into his room and his stuff while he was gone. He left them with too many questions, and he knew from talking to Moody and Mrs. Weasley that they didn't stop until their questions were answered. Whatever the consequences.

When Talione was finished eating, the three of them exchanged farewells and Moody led Talione up the stairs and outside. Talione was a little surprised when Moody turned and set off down the street; he had assumed the "Underground" was farther away than walking distance. Moody was on high alert and kept his hand on the wand in his pocket. Talione could see Moody's magic blue eye spinning around in its eye-socket, and the Auror looked tense.

They walked in silence until they arrived at the entrance of the Underground. "Hey!" Talione hissed to the Auror, suddenly recognizing where they were. "This is a subway station!" He didn't know until then there was one in London; he rode one in New York five years before when he was staying with his friend Casey Douglas over winter break. Every time they went around a corner Talione thought the train was going to fly off the track and into the walls, killing everyone on it. "Are you suicidal? They aren't safe!"

"No, I'm not suicidal." Moody said. "It's not magic, but it should be safe enough for our trip. And what did you think it was?"

I thought the Underground was a wizard bus, Talione muttered, and wondered a little despairingly if he was ever going to understand British lingo. He deliberately didn't use English, a small revenge for the surprise, and Moody gave him a weird look.

He watched Moody carefully as he bought the tickets and followed him onto the train. Moody pulled out a piece of paper with Mr. Weasley's handwriting, and counted down the stops on the list as they went past them. Talione listened to him and the roar of the train with his eyes closed, willing his breakfast to stay down. "Alright there?" Moody asked Talione. "You look a bit green."

Talione nodded and wished he had something large and heavy to throw at Moody's head.

"Level five, Department of International Magical Cooperation, Incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law, and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats," chimed the woman's voice that let them in.

Moody stumped out of the elevator—_'lift'_— and Talione walked quickly to keep up, followed by a small violet cloud of Ministry memos. The memos zoomed off overhead, into open doors, and around the corners to other parts of the Department. There were two giant maps of the globe on the walls, with patches of colored light flashing in areas on the map that Moody said were wizard communities, and doors lined the hallway before it ended in a sign pointing around the corner to the two other sub-departments, one of which was the Law Office they were going to.

They passed an old witch who stared curiously at them, and Talione adjusted his glasses a little nervously, making sure his eyes were covered. He didn't want to attract notice more than he already did from the security guard when they checked in. Talione's daggers weren't picked up by the guard's instrument, but it took a few minutes to convince the guard that he really didn't have a wand hidden. Or a wand.

They turned the corner and passed a giant pair of oak doors guarded by two witches Moody said were Aurors. "The Confederation of Wizards meets in there," Moody said. "The Aurors prevent anything nasty happening in the meetings." It was obvious what he meant by "anything nasty" as his magic blue eye spun around to glare at the doors as they went past.

"In here," Moody said a moment later as they reached a sign pointing to the left, reading INTERNATIONAL MAGICAL OFFICE of LAW. The room was enormous; in the back was a large screen with words streaming across in different languages and bright colors, detailing different things that were happening around the world. Beside the screen was another map of the world with the wizard communities marked in orange, and flashing blue and purple lights spread across it. There was a sign beside it, but the distance was too great for Talione to read it, and he didn't get a chance to try because Moody gripped his elbow and pulled him around another corner and into a cubicle.

It was currently empty except for the furniture. Two desks sitting side by side took up one wall, and several file cabinets took up another. Beside the doorway was a small purple armchair, but it was covered in stacks of papers. The walls were similarly covered with newspaper clippings and photos; above the desk on the right was a picture of the Chudley Cannons, which Ginny told Talione was the Quidditch team Ron supported. Several postcards were pinned up around it from Egypt, Japan, and France. The desk to the left was spotless, and the only thing on it was a picture of two little boys playing in a sandbox. They didn't move when Talione leaned towards the photo for a better look. "Are these Alan's sons?" Talione asked.

Moody shook his head. "His wife's nephews. Both were killed in one of You-Know-Who's attacks in the last war." he said. "Nice cloak, Rebecca."

"Damn! I forgot that eye of yours!" said a woman's voice a foot away from Talione, and he jumped in surprise. "Oh, sorry dear, didn't mean to scare you." A second later the owner appeared beside Moody, holding an invisibility cloak in her hand. Under her other arm was a stack of folders and she dropped them on the desk next to the photos. Her robes were green and spotless, but her blonde hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and despite the early hour she already looked exhausted. "I'm trying to avoid Weasley and the Minister; they're running our department ragged! How are you, Alastor?"

"As well as I can be these days." Moody answered. "Rebecca, this is Talione. Talione, this is Alan's daughter Rebecca. Dumbledore told me to bring in Talione this morning. Alan wanted to talk to him. Is he around?"

Rebecca shook her head. "Dad's running a little late." she said. "The Aurors think one of the Death Eaters they caught was in the attack at Eldraeli—that's why Dad wanted to see you, right?" Not waiting for an answer, she turned and rummaged through the folders she put down. A moment later she pulled out an orange flyer and passed it to Moody. "Here, it's an Auror memo. They're going to have a meeting in an hour, and Tonks wanted you to go talk to a couple of the newer ones after. They're being a bit reckless; you're to straighten them out, remind them they aren't immortal."

Moody nodded. "I think Kingsley asked me the same thing the other day," he said. "I'll go after we talk to your father."

Talione knew for a fact Kingsley and Moody had dropped by for dinner the night before, and Kinglsey had asked Moody that question, and realized this must be part of the game of "I'm-Not-In-The-Order" the members working in the Ministry played to keep Fudge from asking them about Order activities.

"Good," Rebecca said. She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a purple pad of paper with "The Ministry of Magic" stamped on it. She scribbled on the top sheet, then tore it off the pad, folded it, and threw it up in the air.

Talione watched in amazement as the paper hovered in the air for a moment then zoomed around the little cubicle and out the doorway. "What was that?" he asked.

"Interdepartmental memo," Rebecca said. "I wrote Tonks to tell her you'll be up there later." She paused, looking like she was trying to remember something. "Oh, right! Dad said to give you a couple things, um, Talione, was it?" She pronounced it strangely, making it rhyme with 'battalion,' instead of 'talon', like everyone else did.

Talione nodded. He didn't bother correcting her; most of the people he met made the same mistake and there wasn't that much difference in pronunciation anyway. Rebecca opened one of her desk drawers and pulled out a silver badge attached to a thin chain, and a small box. "You're supposed to wear the badge at all times when you aren't at home; it shows that you have permission to do underage magic. The other one's a gift," she said. "I would've sent it with my owl, but she refuses to carry things like that."

Talione put the badge around his neck and tucked it under his shirt, then opened the box. He smiled when he saw what was inside it; a small replica of the Statue of Liberty. "Thanks!" he said. "Bought in New York?"

"An airport in Texas, actually. I was visiting a friend there last week." Rebecca said brightly. "It's a lighter. You're too young to smoke, but I thought you might like it." Talione nodded and put it back in the box, then put the box in his coat pocket. Rebecca glanced at the doorway and lowered her voice. "There's another badge for Harry Potter in there. It's invisible, but the spell for that will wear off in a couple hours." she said. "Since you're in touch with Dumbledore, I thought you could give it to him to send to Potter. I thought to save him another hearing if he has to defend himself again."

Talione assured her that Harry would get the badge, and Rebecca looked relieved. "C'mon, then," she said. "My husband's waiting for us. The sooner we get done with the scum, the sooner they can be put in Azkaban."

Talione motioned to the cloak Rebecca still held. "May I wear that?" he asked. "The Death Eaters might know me, whether I recognize them or not. I don't want them to see me."

"Good idea," Rebecca said. "Constant vigilance!" she said, giving Moody a wink. She gave the cloak to Talione and he put it on to see how it fit but kept the hood down so they could both see him, not just Moody. "It might be a tiny bit too long, I think."

Talione tried walking in it but stepped on the hem and was almost strangled by the collar. "A little," he agreed, after readjusting the cloak so he could breathe again. Moody drew his wand and pointed it at the hem and Talione watched his shoes reappear and disappear as Moody adjusted the cloak until Talione could walk freely but was still hidden.

When he was done, Moody kept his wand drawn and looked Talione over critically. "The Disillusion charm would work better!" he grumbled.

Talione hid the cloak under his jacket to use later. "Since I only need to be invisible near the Death Eaters, Moody," he said, "I'd rather wear the cloak and skip the concussion you usually give your victims."

Moody only glared at Talione. "Are you ready yet?" he asked. "We can't wait forever." Talione sighed and nodded. He had made the small joke to try and relieve the tension that suddenly surrounded the three of them. Now that they were actually going to see the captured Death Eaters he felt like he was on his way to be hanged.

The halls weren't empty anymore; the bulk of the Ministry workers were arriving. Talione got a few more stares from the people he passed, but he kept his head down and his eyes on the floor; most people were more interested in getting to work on time than the young man following Mad-Eye Moody. Moody's glare was sufficient to make most people avoid looking at them anyway, and Talione retreated into his thoughts after a minute.

Not that it helped any. The first thing that came to mind was his frustration over his inability to remember what happened at Eldraeli and doubt he could recognize either of the Death Eaters or the woman that was with them. How could he recognize someone from the attack, if he didn't remember the attack itself?

_'Fudge just wants to see if the sight of a Death Eater shakes any memories loose,'_ Talione reminded himself. '_Then I might remember information about this weapon everyone's going on about.' _He felt anger stir in his mind and stamped it down, recalling a phrase he learned early on in Eldraeli. **_Anger and fear only ruin concentration and aim._** In or out of a fight, someone who let their emotions control their actions was more dangerous as an ally than an enemy.

They arrived at the lifts, and he followed Rebecca and Moody into the nearest one. Rebecca pressed the button labeled with a nine, and Talione listened to the clatter of the lift as they started to descend. "Why don't you take those off?" Rebecca asked him. "You won't be able to see with sunglasses on down there."

Talione had expected the question, but was surprised at how long it took her to ask. "I'm not allowed. I have eye problems." _'Yeah, eye problems. As in my eyes could get me killed.' _Even though Tonks found him in the South tower with several dead Death Eaters, there was still a chance one of them saw him and got away. The wizard world was at war; there were plenty of spies working for both sides.

Before Rebecca could ask another question, he changed the subject. "Where are the prisoners kept?"

"The Death Eaters we catch are being kept below the Department of Mysteries, down the hall from the courtrooms. We set up some temporary holding cells until we can find a more permanent solution," Rebecca explained. "Until last year prisoners went to Azkaban, but since the Dementor guards left it, we have to keep them here so they can't escape."

Talione didn't know what Dementors were—his class hadn't gotten that far. "Damn traitors switched sides to join You-Know-Who," Moody growled. "Now we have to keep an eye out for them _and_ Death Eaters."

They reached their destination and the female voice overhead said, "Department of Mysteries."

The hall wasn't very special, completely bare except for a painting of a green knight just outside the lift. At the sight of them the knight drew his sword and brandished it. "Halt! What's your—" he stopped, looking embarrassed. "My apologies, Lady Rebecca. I wasn't expecting you. Who are your friend and the squire?"

"Hello, Drannory. This is Alastor Moody and Talione Riddle. Dad's expecting them in Level Ten. Who's on guard duty now?"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, Amos Diggory, Miss Tonks, and Arthur Weasley. Your father, too." he said. Drannory fidgeted a little nervously, looking around, then leaned forward and added in a whisper, "I must warn you, Diggory has …not been himself for awhile." he said. "Be careful what you do and say below."

"Thank you," Rebecca said.

"Happy to be of service." Drannory saluted them with his sword and walked out of the frame.

Talione pulled the cloak out of his jacket, and put it on, making sure he could still get to his daggers if he had to. For extra stealth, he took off his shoes and socks, ignoring Moody's impatient glare as he tied his shoelaces together and hung his shoes around his neck. His socks went in his pockets. "Let's go."

"No, not that way!" Moody barked, when Talione started to the door at the end of the hall. "Level ten's down here!" He grabbed Talione's arm and turned him in the right direction, towards a staircase Talione hadn't seen in the shadows. Then he resumed walking, leading the way while Rebecca brought up the rear, carefully moving so she wouldn't bump into Talione.

Level Ten was rather disappointing, Talione thought, after the brightness of the higher floors. But the atmosphere, with the stone walls and torches stuck in brackets along them, was fitting for a floor set aside for courtrooms and holding cells. They passed a few large wooden doors as well, which Talione assumed were the courtrooms. There was a thick layer of dust in front of two of them, indicating their disuse, and more dust covered the rest of the hallway. Fresh footprints had disturbed the dust in the middle of the hall, and Moody kicked up more as he walked, until Talione's eyes were watering too much for him to see.

He pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose and mouth, walking carefully in Moody's footsteps to eliminate his own marks, and praying that he wouldn't have an allergy attack. Ahead of him, Moody suddenly stopped and handed Talione a large blue handkerchief and signaled something to Rebecca.

Talione was trying to stay as quiet as possible, but Rebecca wasn't under such restraint, and actually seemed to be trying to make as much noise as possible, caught in a fit of coughing and sneezing. "Moody…stop! C-c-can't… breathe!"

Talione glanced at her and saw her head was encased in a large clear bubble that looked like a fishbowl. In a flash, he realized Moody had signaled to her to make noise to cover him. He gave Moody a grateful look and used Rebecca's cover to clear the dust from his nose and lungs. When he was done, Moody pointed his wand at the handkerchief and muttered, _"Scourgify."_ Two more waves of his wand covered Talione's head and his own in fishbowls identical to Rebecca's.

Rebecca grinned at Moody and mouthed, "Nice look." She waved her own wand and Talione heard a loud noise like someone blowing their nose. Aloud, Rebecca said, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Moody said gruffly, playing his own part. "Dunno why it's so damn filthy down here. You'd think with people coming down here again the Ministry would get someone to clear up the dirt."

Rebecca sighed. "You know Fudge better than that, Alastor. Between training his replacement, and fighting the war, Fudge has too much to think about than cleaning the cellars," she said. "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Come on!"

Talione wondered at the trouble the Ministry was in, that people like Moody and Rebecca had fool eavesdroppers in their own workplace. He resumed following Rebecca and Moody again, and after a minute they reached another door, this time green and metal with a large picture of a snake and keys on it. Moody hammered on the door with his fist, and they heard a low voice say, "Password?"

"It's Alastor and Rebecca, Tonks!" Rebecca said. "I know perfectly well there is no password!"

The door slid open, and Talione got the shock of his life. Standing behind it was Tonks, her eye sockets empty and dark with gore, and her face covered in blood. She took a small step towards them, her mouth starting to form a word, but before she could she collapsed face first onto the ground.

Talione could feel the blood drain from his face. She was dead. She was dead, which meant the others probably were too. He knew he should move, that if Tonks and the others were dead, the Death Eaters were loose from their cells. But he was rooted to the spot, staring at Tonks. Rebecca was shaking him, but he couldn't hear her over the roaring in his ears. Suddenly, the room tilted sharply and turned gray and foggy, then dark.

_Well, what do ya think? Next chapter coming soon!_


	7. The Dungeon and the Tower

(Disclaimer: All characters and settings except for Talione and Eldraeli are property of JK Rowling. Really, I wish they _all_ were mine but that won't happen.)

I'm so sorry I took so long with this! First I accidentally blew the chapter away, then I was waiting for my beta to go over the six chapters. But she hasn't and I gave up waiting. I hope you like it.

The rating for this chapter and the next few may be raised to PG-13 due to language. Or whatever the corresponding setting is now, they went and switched the letters while I was away!

**Chapter 6: The Dungeon and the Tower**

"—not like I knew he had an Invisibility cloak!"

"Well, it worked," Moody growled. "We all fell for it."

"Really?" Tonks said.

_'No, Tonks is dead.' _Talione thought. _'I saw her myself.'_ He didn't want to open his eyes. If he opened his eyes he'd have to face the truth. "He's awake, Alastor," Rebecca said. _'Dammit.' _He couldn't continue pretending anymore. He sat up and rubbed his eyes to see if his glasses were still on. They were, and better yet, they weren't even cracked from when he hit the floor. Rebecca crouched in front of him and held her hand in front of his face. "How many fingers do you see?" she asked.

"Three," he said obediently. He looked past her at Tonks was leaning against the wall. He could tell she was worried by the way she was twisting a strand of brown hair around her finger so the circulation was cut off. Her eyes were still where they were supposed to be, and the blood was gone, replaced by her the apologetic expression that was her trademark. "You're not dead," he said flatly, getting up and brushing himself off. He had made a fool of himself over an illusion and it irritated him. "How _dare_ you! I thought you and all the others were really dead, and there were two Death Eaters loose we had to find! You're an Auror! Act like one, use your brain!" He wasn't even shouting but Tonks flinched slightly, as if he had slapped her.

"Sorry." Tonks said. "I was just doing my job. I'm supposed to scare and stun other Death Eaters who try to rescue the two we captured."

"Well, be careful," Talione said in a lower voice. "You could've given someone a heart attack." He was more frightened than angry anyway. Between seeing Tonks and blacking out, he saw faces in her place, dead people he saw as he walked out of Eldraeli after the attack and more that recently appeared in his nightmares, furious that he survived where they didn't. Not that he would tell anyone; he already had enough Order interference in his life. But he desperately wished he had a wand so he could Obliviate himself.

"I'll tell Kingsley you've arrived." Tonks said. She went to the far wall and tapped a small section with her wand. A bigger part beside her shimmered and a door appeared. "Stay here; I'll be back in a few minutes." She opened the door and went through, closing it firmly behind her.

Uncomfortably aware of the eyes watching him, Talione adjusted the cloak to cover him again. It kept Rebecca from seeing him, and he tried to ignore Moody as he looked around. There was a dark fireplace in the corner and a small writing desk near it with two stools and a supply of parchment and quills. Moody took one of the stools, rubbing his good leg and grumbling about distances. Talione ignored the other and sat on the floor. No one spoke, and Talione's thoughts gradually turned to the Death Eaters on the other side of the wall. He didn't know what to expect; no one told him what they looked like or how they acted. Talione assumed it was so he couldn't create false memories about them, but it was frustrating. He wasn't used to being left out of the loop.

After a couple minutes, the door opened again and Mr. Weasley walked in. "Kingsley's done scolding Tonks," he said. "Talione, Alan figured out you're wearing his daughter's cloak and asked that you leave it on. One of the Death Eaters has good ears. Even from where he is, he heard your voices and guessed they have three visitors."

So much for stealth. Talione removed his socks from his pockets and put them back on. "Does this mean I can stop sneaking around?" he asked.

"No, they didn't recognize your voice, so you still have to be careful what you say." Mr. Weasley said. "Keep your talking to a minimum."

Talione finished tying his shoes and nodded, remembered Mr. Weasley couldn't see him, and said, "Yes, sir."

He stood up and started to the door when Moody's growl stopped him. "Can we trust Diggory?"

"Alastor, he knows as well as we do that Fudge can't be trusted!" Rebecca protested. "Why would you say such a thing?"

Moody's magic eye spun to point at the next room. "You-Know-Who killed his son. Diggory is looking for vengeance, and if he thinks Fudge is the means to the end, he's not stable enough anymore to care. Can we trust him?"

"I've been friends with him for awhile. We can trust him in this," Mr. Weasley said. In a lower voice he muttered, "I hate politics." He opened the door and ushered them through.

The next room wasn't a room but a very long, wide hall lined with cells and lit with yellow globes of floating light. Inside the door in a –-niche was the best word, but it was a little big to be one—were two chairs and a small table with a pile of newspapers on it. Above the table was an empty portrait frame. One of the chairs was spun away from them so the occupant could use the overhead light to the best of his advantage. Talione could see an open paper over the man's shoulder and guessed he was reading the _Daily Prophet._ Next to the door was a black, bald man with a gold earring that made him look like a pirate. He radiated confidence and offered them a warm smile when they entered. "Alastor, it's good to see you again." he asked. "You need to visit us more often."

"I'm thinking of leaving retirement," Moody said seriously. "With the war starting again, you need all the help you can get."

"Good, we could use your expertise." Kingsley agreed. "These days no one wants to take a job that would put them in the line of fire."

"They came to see the scum, Shacklebolt," said his companion harshly. "Enough chitchat." Newspaper crumpled and the man turned the chair around and stood up. His ruddy face was deeply lined and sported a scraggly beard. He looked well-kept, but it had a false quality to it, as if he only took care with his appearance because it was expected of him. His eyes were a little dull but they were clear of any trace of madness that Talione expected to see. _'Of course they are,' _he told himself_. 'He's not going to be insane just because he follows Fudge. They all used to." _But Diggory gave Talione the creeps and he stayed several feet away.

"They also came to see Dad," Rebecca said. "Where is he?"

"Down the hall, trying to talk to one of the Death Eaters," Kingsley said. "I don't understand why he bothers. The one on the end hates us and the other went to sleep shortly after they were dragged in."

Talione edged past Mr. Weasley—Moody caught his sleeve to keep him from going further—and saw Tonks back out of one of the cells on the end and hex the door. The air behind her shimmered, and Rebecca's father appeared, holding a clipboard and glasses in one hand and his Invisibility cloak with the other. He looked distracted and scribbled on the clipboard as he walked towards them. "…the department won't run this!" he told Tonks. "Surely _someone _would come forward with information? I mean—"

Kingsley cleared his throat loudly. "Alan, we have visitors," he reminded him.

Mr. Turner looked up from the clipboard, annoyed at the interruption. "I believe I was…oh, never mind. Hello, Becky. Alastor, so glad you could join us in the Pit!" he said cheerfully. "Where's your friend?" Standing next to him, Talione didn't see the harm in a small joke. He took a deep breath and…

"Don't you dare!" Moody barked.

Prepared to shout "BOO!" in Mr. Turner's ear, Talione frowned. "Spoilsport." Moody was still holding part of his sleeve and Talione stepped back and pulled it away.

Mr. Turner still jumped, surprised to hear Talione so close by. "Amos, would you take my report up to Victor in my department?" Mr. Turner asked. "I need him to send it to Graham in Washington."

Diggory scowled. "I'm supposed to guard the Death Eaters," he snapped. He glanced at the spot where he heard Talione's voice as he said the words 'Death Eaters', and Talione knew Diggory included him.

"Amos, your shift finished five minutes ago." Kingsley said a little sharply. "Just take the report up with you; you have to find Anna White and send her down anyway." Looking defeated, Diggory took the clipboard from Mr. Turner and Tonks followed him out, grumbling good-naturedly about paperwork. "Rebecca, would you go ask Drannory to warn us if Fudge arrives on the lift?"

Rebecca nodded. "I have to return to the office to finish some things. I'll talk to Drannory on the way up," she said. "Dad, would you bring my cloak back when he's done with it?" Mr. Turner nodded. She waved and left.

"If we're done talking, may I go see the Death Eaters?" Talione asked. He was getting impatient again, but couldn't help it. He wanted the ordeal over with.

"Be careful," Kingsley warned. "They're unarmed, but I wouldn't put it past them to have some tricks we don't know about."

Talione rolled his eyes. "I can take care of myself!" he said. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"You have three and a half," Moody barked. "I want to be gone before Fudge gets here."

Talione gave them a mock salute and walked away. His left arm was starting to hurt as he walked and he wondered if he had landed on it when he fainted. He rubbed it and made a note to ask Moody if he knew a spell to fix it later.

As he approached the two cells on the end, he could see magic crackling over the doors. He stopped at the first and looked in, careful not to get too close to the bars. To his amazement, the occupant was lying on the floor in the middle of the cell, fast asleep. His robes were shabby and he had a few days' growth of beard and smelled like alcohol. If Talione didn't know better, or saw the Dark Mark on the man's outstretched arm, he'd have assumed the man got drunk, tried to blow something up, and was arrested and brought there to sleep it off. There was a long red scar on the man's face from his right eye to his chin, but he was otherwise indistinguishable. Talione didn't recognize him, but carefully memorized his face and moved on to the next cell.

The Death Eater in it stood directly in front of the bars with his arms folded. "I could hear you coming down the hall," he said. "Are you here to talk like the others, or just stand there and gawk? I know you're there, runt, you might as well take off the cloak." Talione left the cloak on in case the Death Eater was bluffing, and chose to "gawk" as he put it. This Death Eater's his head was shaved and on the right side of his skull was a tattoo of a cactus. He was the opposite of his partner; his brown beard was neatly trimmed and his robes looked relatively new.

When Talione didn't appear or speak, the Death Eater sighed. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" he asked. "Surely you've seen one of us before."

"I have," Talione admitted. He didn't recognize this man either. To keep him talking long enough for him to try to identify his voice, he asked, "Why are you here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" the man said irritably. "I was ambushed and dragged here by the Aurors."

Talione realized his intended question was too vague. 'Why?' covered a lot of things. The Death Eater assumed he meant 'What happened to you?' "I mean, why do you serve Voldemort? What makes the Dark Mark worth going to prison?" he asked. It was a question he wanted to ask for awhile, and this Death Eater was alive to answer it.

He didn't flinch when Talione used his master's name, a bad trait in a Death Eater. Flinching meant they were frightened of Voldemort. Instead, he rolled up his left sleeve and pressed his forearm against the bars so Talione could see the dark skull and snake clearly. "See this? I wear this mark with pride, and that's all you should know." The crackling magic suddenly turned to sparks and Talione heard a sizzling sound and smelled burning flesh. The Death Eater drew back with a hiss of pain, cursing the Aurors. "I would go to Azkaban and back for my master," he said defiantly. "This cell is nothing to me."

Talione shook his head. "How stupid," he muttered, forgetting what Mr. Weasley said about minimizing his speech. "Do you know what that mark really means? You're cannon fodder. There's no place in Voldemort's ranks for Death Eaters who are caught as easily as the two of you."

The Death Eater was livid. "How dare you, you little snot!" he shouted.

Talione shrugged. "Easily. Because I'm going to leave in a moment and you'll still be here waiting for your comrades to come rescue you. And because I know Voldemort is just another loser with plans to rule the world. He'll be crushed in the end like the rest of them." He had seen enough and walked away, listening to the Death Eater shout obscenities after him.

Tonks' and Diggory's replacements still weren't there when Talione returned. Mr. Turner led him and Moody into the other room to talk while Mr. Weasley and Kingsley remained behind to watch the prisoners. "Did you recognize either of them?" Moody asked gruffly.

Talione yanked off the cloak so they could both see him. He folded it and gave it to Mr. Turner. "No. What were their names?"

"The sleeper was Alexander Khalow. The other is Aaron. No surname, though, he wouldn't tell us." Mr. Turner answered. "We ran a check on both. Aaron had a brother at Eldraeli named Carlos."

_'Carlos…Carlos…' _"Carlos Mayhew." Talione said. "He was the headmaster about a year ago. Maybe Aaron's his brother." He didn't see the point of being dragged down to the dungeon if the Aurors already knew the names of the two men. Death Eaters were Death Eaters, whether they were at Eldraeli or not they were still going to be locked up like the others.

"I'll have my office track him down for questioning," Mr. Turner said. "He might know what the Death Eaters are looking for."

"Don't bother," Talione advised. "He's dead."

Mr. Turner grimaced. "In that case, if there's nothing else to do here, we should leave. Fudge will be here in a few minutes."

Moody's magic eye swiveled to the outer door. "Too late, they just came around the corner," he grumbled.

Talione groaned. "Great, show up at the last minute. How clichéd. I bet they have invisibility cloaks, too," he said. "Only way I can think of to get by Drannory without hexing him."

They heard three loud bangs on the outer door. "It's Cornelius Fudge and Percy Weasley!" shouted a voice on the other side. While he was eating breakfast Talione thought Moody was a little paranoid and was warning him against Fudge so Talione wouldn't give the minister information about Dumbledore's Order. Now he wondered if they were genuinely afraid of Fudge and thought he would turn Talione against them.

"We had to get it over with sometime," Talione reminded them, and opened the door.

A portly man with a ridiculous green bowler hat stood outside with his hand raised to knock again. He lowered his arm when he saw group and gave them a smile more triumphant than friendly. Talione disliked him immediately. "O'Connell in Security told me you were here," he said. Behind Fudge, Percy winced and gave Moody an apologetic look.

Ignoring the two adults, he said to Talione, "I'm Minister Fudge and this is my assistant, Percy." He held his hand out and Talione shook it reluctantly, pulling his hand away as quickly as he was able.

"Have you seen the Death Eaters yet?" he asked.

"Yes. But I'd prefer not to talk about it here," Talione said, as if he hadn't done just that a minute earlier. "It's not safe."

"Sir, I think you still have some paperwork for him in your office. Maybe you could talk there?" Percy suggested.

Fudge beamed and Talione sensed Moody tensing behind him. "Good idea," Talione said quickly. "I could fill it out while we talk. Kill two birds with one rock, and save me another trip to the Ministry later." Moody started to object, but Talione elbowed him in the ribs.

The minister struck up a conversation with Kingsley about the Death Eaters and Ministry security and Moody pulled Talione aside. "What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

"I'm a big boy, I can defend myself," Talione whispered. "It's not like he's can do anything in the middle of the Ministry. There are too many people."

Moody relaxed just a little, though Talione knew his magic eye would be watching them as much as he could. "Remember what I said about making him angry," he growled. "And _no magic _in front of him!"

Fudge spent another minute talking and even Percy was starting to fidget when he finally wrapped up the conversation and they left. Fudge tried to make small talk and to make him stop asking questions, Talione asked him to describe how the each level of the Ministry worked. It was enough to keep Fudge's tongue running all the way up to the fifth level. They were quiet after that, listening to the lift voice announce the floors. Finally the voice said, "Level One: Office of the Minister of Magic."

"My office is up here too," Percy said proudly, "but it wasn't added until after the lift was installed. Until twenty years ago, the minister used to work by himself on this level."

Talione was amazed by what he saw when he followed Fudge and Percy out of the lift. Level One was only a third of the size of the others. The walls were red and violet and armchairs and small tables of the same colors were scattered around for visitors. At the back of the room was a large walled-off space that was converted into an office. Positioned on the wall beside the office door was a large tapestry of two wizards dueling, one green and blue, the other white and yellow. In the middle of the room was a large oval table with a few chairs and three large wooden desks scattered around it. Only one of the desks appeared to be in use. It was covered in papers and folders like Rebecca's desk, and attached to the front was a bronze plaque with "Percy Weasley, Junior Under-Secretary to the Minister" on it. One of the other desks was completely bare of both work and a plaque, the remaining desk only held two things; a plaque with "Dolores Umbridge, Senior Under-Secretary to the Minister" and a pair of centaur bookends. The bookends had a tag attached with a large triple "W" in purple.

He noticed Fudge watching him. "It's… impressive," he said. "I like the tapestry. It's rather appropriate for these times. Has it been up long?"

Percy shook his head. "It used to be a picture of the Fountain of Magical Brethren identical to the one in the Atrium," he said, "but we changed it when the Atrium was destroyed in June. Ask Dumbledore about it sometime." Percy went to his desk, and pulled his wand out. Making sure Talione could see him Percy opened one of the top drawers and put his wand in it, then picked up a folder and got to work. Talione understood the gesture; Percy didn't trust Fudge as much anymore and would be ready if Talione needed him.

He followed Fudge to the office at the back. After what Moody told him about Fudge, Talione wasn't surprised to see a Foe-glass sitting in the corner opposite the door. Newspaper clippings and a few photos covered the wall above it, all mentioning or showing Fudge in some way. The only other furniture besides the Foe-glass was a desk and an umbrella stand. Fudge waved his wand and a green armchair appeared for Talione and a large sheet covered the Foe-glass. A stack of forms also appeared on the edge of the desk with a small supply of ballpoint pens, unlike the quills and ink Talione expected to see. "Some of these are for the Muggle government," Fudge explained. "They don't approve of quills."

"I've used pens before. Professor Carlton thought they made our work more legible," Talione replied. "But why would the Muggle government send me paperwork? They have nothing to do with wizards."

"Sometimes they do," Fudge said with a frown. "Just fill it out." Talione picked up one of the forms and looked it over. It seemed easy enough. Name…Date of birth…country of origin… He picked up a pen and got to work. When he got to "place of stay," he stopped. It was the kind of question that could be a problem. He wanted to put in 'Hogwarts' since the Muggles didn't know what or where Hogwarts was, the minister thought he was staying with Dumbledore, and Talione didn't know the headmaster's summer residence. However, if a Death Eater found the form, he didn't want Voldemort to destroy the school.

"Sir, maybe I should wait on the paperwork until I can talk to Dumbledore. I don't want to ruin any security measures he might have." Fudge reluctantly agreed and Talione leaned back in his chair and tried not to glare at Fudge, wondering if the papers were an attempt to learn the address of the Order's headquarters. He assumed Fudge already knew he was staying there.

"How do you like England so far?" Fudge asked politely.

"We've already done the small talk, sir, please get to the point. I know you have better questions for me."

He didn't mean to sound rude, but Fudge blinked at him for several seconds, trying to think of what to say next. Talione could almost see the wheels smoking as they turned in the Minister's head. What to ask first? "Tell me about the Death Eaters."

"I identified one of them." There was no point in lying since the names were going to get back to Fudge eventually. "He's related to a former headmaster, Carlos Mayhew, another Death Eater. A dead one, since one of the students killed him last year when they found out."

"What about your memory loss?" Fudge asked. "Is it reversing yet?"

Talione hesitated just long enough for Fudge to get his hopes up. "Sorry, no." He frowned. "Dumbledore thinks my memory should come back between now and October, but I want to get it back sooner than that. The faster I can remember what I need to, the faster you can arrest all the Death Eaters and I can return to something resembling of a normal life."

"Of course," Fudge said, smiling his false smile again. "What have you tried so far?"

"Nothing yet. I don't see Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall very often during the day and they're usually busy at night. Otherwise I'd ask them for suggestions," he said. It was the truth as far as Fudge was concerned. Talione paused before he asked his own question, unsure if he already knew the answer. "About this weapon everyone wants; what proof do you have that I know what it is?"

"Err…we don't really have physical proof…" Fudge said. "But there were seven other survivors with you and three of them were professors who all said you had something to do with what the Death Eaters were looking for. After you were sent here, your president Carmichael"

"She's not the president," Talione interrupted. "The President is a Muggle. Carmichael is a witch who works for the wizard Congress."

The minister let the interruption slide. "Carmichael had a few of the American Aurors question the others as a group. Your friends didn't know what they were talking about but the professors did, and they Obliviated themselves and the students of all traces of that knowledge."

Talione couldn't imagine the desperation it took for his professors to do such a thing. Strategically, it was a good move; instead of letting Voldemort take his pick of easier targets, the professors limited the number so Voldemort would have no choice but to hunt for Talione to get the information. And Talione was under the protection of someone he feared and never defeated. "Except their gamble failed," he said. "I don't know what they thought I did. So you can give up on this "ultimate weapon" business. I can't help you, and you'll be better off looking for different ways to kill Voldemort. Like asking Harry Potter for help; he's defeated Voldemort before, he might do it again."

Fudge flinched and made an odd hissing sound when Talione said Voldemort's name. "What Potter did was a fluke. He's just lucky, and one day his luck is going to run out," he said.

Since Harry wasn't there, Talione felt obligated to defend him. "Sir, he's the most powerful wizard I know about besides Dumbledore. Who else has fought Voldemort face-to-face four times and survived?"

"He's a child," Fudge said coolly.

"He's almost sixteen by now," Talione said. "That's not a child."

"He's only good as a mascot to gather our forces around. We in the Ministry can handle the Dark Lord ourselves."

_'Is that why you sent Umbridge to Hogwarts to silence him? Because you thought you could "handle the Dark Lord"?' _Before he said something he'd regret later, Talione closed his eyes and removed his glasses to clean them; the task gave him time to think and calm down. The conversation wasn't going in a direction he liked. He despised Fudge for covering up Voldemort's return, and the minister annoyed him more with every word. But Fudge had the ability to send him back to the U.S. if there was a sufficient reason, and Talione didn't want that to happen. It would waste the time and efforts put into protecting him and leave him open for another attack.

He put his glasses on again and stood up. "I think I should go now, sir. Moody should be done with the Aurors by now, and I don't want to keep him waiting." _'And if I stick around, you're going to end up with a black eye,' _he added to himself. "Should I make another appointment to complete the paperwork later?" he asked.

"Ask Percy. He keeps track of those," Fudge said, looking a little dismayed that he didn't get any useful information from Talione. A pile of papers appeared on his desk and he turned away from Talione to do his work. Talione let himself out.

He was surprised to find Moody really was done and waiting for him at Umbridge's desk with Percy. Both had their wands pointed at a centaur bookend and were watching them run around on the desk and fight each other. Percy was laughing and egging on his centaur. Watching them, Talione was astonished by the difference between this Percy and the strict, rule-enforcing, ambitious Percy he heard about.

"Did the boy behave himself, Fudge?" Moody growled, watching the centaurs.

Percy whirled around, automatically starting to apologize. "Sir, this isn't…" His ears turned red when he realized he was tricked. He straightened and jabbed his wand at his centaur so it returned to its original place and position, and stalked back to his desk. "That wasn't funny, Moody," he said.

"Percy, I need to make another appointment with Fudge," Talione said. "I have to talk to Dumbledore before I can finish the papers."

Percy pulled a small book out of his desk and flipped through it. "He doesn't have an opening until the tenth of August, at nine o'clock." he said. "Or you can come in at seven that evening, after hours."

"Nine is fine, thanks. Goodbye, Percy."

"Goodbye."

(A/N: I find my conversations often sound forced, and I have a strong tendency towards descriptions. Anyone have suggestions?)


	8. Problems

(Disclaimer: All characters and settings except for Talione and Eldraeli (and anyone or anything else not mentioned in the six books) are property of JK Rowling. I want to I claim they were _all_ were mine, but we know that won't happen!)

Enjoy!

**Chapter 7:**

Moody and Talione didn't return from the Ministry until lunch and Mrs. Weasley started pacing when they heard Moody's voice calling them and his unique thump overhead. Talione came in a few seconds later. "Moody wants you, Mrs. Weasley. Order stuff." She thanked him and left, and Talione joined the group at the table.

"How was the Ministry?" asked Ginny.

"Okay." Talione pulled a plate toward himself and filled it. "Okay. I met a couple people in International, Alan and Rebecca Turner. You know them?" Harry and Hermione only knew a handful of the Ministry workers, but Ron and Ginny didn't recognize them either. "They were the high point of the trip, unfortunately. I also had to talk to Fudge."

"What did he want?"

"Answers," Talione said, a little angrily. "Same as everyone else. Do you know this, do you remember that, yada yada yada…"

"Did he tell you the Aurors caught two Death Eaters this morning?" Hermione asked. "It was in the _Prophet_." The two had put several women under the Imperius, making them pass out samples of cosmetics with maidenhair root in them, an illegal potion ingredient that caused infertility in Muggles when absorbed through the skin. Hermione couldn't hide her disgust when she mentioned the Death Eaters; two hundred and fourteen samples were passed out before the Aurors caught them.

"No, he didn't." But Talione didn't look fazed by the news, either, and he didn't ask who the pair was. "Where are the ones you caught, by the way? Will those two be added to them?"

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny exchanged looks that Harry didn't like. Ron answered, "The ones we fought were sent to Azkaban. But they escaped a few days after we got here… some Dementors returned to break them out."

"We don't know where the Death Eaters are being kept now," Hermione added.

Talione shrugged. "I guess it doesn't matter, as long as they're locked up."

Mrs. Weasley returned, doing her best impression of a Hungarian Horntail, to tell them there was an Order meeting after dinner and ask Talione to stay behind. They finished the meal in silence, unwilling to say anything in case it set her off. Harry and his friends hung around after lunch was cleared away, hoping to hear Mrs. Weasley talking to Talione, but were thrown out and heard the Imperturbable Charm being cast on the door.

They split up for the afternoon. Ginny returned to her room to finish her homework, and Harry went to the study to finish his. Hermione and Ron joined him.

To celebrate the end of "Headmistress" Umbridge's rule at Hogwarts the previous year all of the professors –except Snape, of course-- gave them a bare minimum of work for the summer. Snape had doubled the amount to make up for his colleagues. But as hard as he tried, Harry couldn't concentrate. The house was permeated with memories of Sirius. Harry was slowly getting over the guilt for his part in Sirius' death, but the memories were harder to deal with. He couldn't believe less than a month had passed since he and his friends fought the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. Ron's arms bore faint scars from where a brain had latched onto him and Hermione still winced in pain when she laughed too hard—she tried to hide it of course, but Harry still saw it. Only Ginny didn't have any outward reminders of the fight.

Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom were fine when Harry last saw them—Luna's concussion and Neville's broken nose were easily fixed by one of the Aurors that arrived at the end of the fight—but he wondered how they were doing. They were on the fringes of the group (Luna had been in another House altogether) and unlike the Harry and the others at Grimmauld Place they had to spend the summer apart from the rest and deal with the battle's aftermath alone. Harry wondered if Luna ever went Snorcack hunting with her father in Sweden and how Neville's grandmother reacted when she found out he broke his father's wand. He wanted to owl them to see how they were holding up.

Harry gave up trying to write the essay and threw his quill across the room in frustration. Hermione frowned, disapproving any waste of school supplies, but Harry ignored her, scanning the bookshelves for something else to do. Mrs. Weasley had thinned out some of the library while they were at Hogwarts, but the remaining volumes and scrolls were more interesting than his Potions text. Harry pulled out a book at random and thumbed through it, idly looking for new spells to teach to the D.A. Without the threat of Umbridge hanging over their heads he wasn't sure if he wanted to continue teaching the other students. Harry hoped Dumbledore would find a competent professor this year; the sixth-years were starting to prepare for NEWT's and he'd have his hands full just keeping up in his classes.

Ron organized his Chocolate Frog card collection and watched the other two. When Hermione finished her work and pulled out a pile of yarn, needles, and a square of blue and gray cloth, he groaned. "Not more spew! No house-elf goes near Gryffindor tower with those things lying around!"

Hermione pursed her lips and glared at her knitting. "It's _S.P.E.W._, Ron, and it's temporarily on hold," she said. "I have to make my mother's scarf. I'm going home day after tomorrow, remember?"

"What?" Harry exclaimed. Returning home wasn't mentioned in any of her letters. "You're safer here!" If she left Grimmauld Place, she was asking to be attacked!

"I spend most of the holidays with you and the Weasleys, Harry," she said. "I'll be fine; the Order is going to have surveillance on my house while I'm there."

"That's what we thought before Umbridge sent those Dementors to Privet Drive!" Ron shouted.

"That's was Mundungus' fault," Hermione said impatiently, "not the whole Order's."

"What if he hears a good deal on dragon livers and disappears again?" Ron asked. "What are you going to do if You-Know-Who shows up at your door?"

"Dumbledore will make sure that won't happen," Hermione said firmly. "And I already told my parents I'm coming, I can't back out now."

Harry left the library as the bickering intensified. For every civilized, friendly conversation they had, two more ended with a fight. He knew Ron liked Hermione, though not if it was mutual, and he'd ordinarily be the first to tease his friend but he was worried for Hermione, too.

He decided to drop in on Buckbeak on his way back to his room, to check on him. Harry pitied the hippogriff; at least Sirius got to leave the house a few times in the last year, even though he couldn't walk around in human form.

Buckbeak burbled a greeting and stood up when Harry came in, but made an unhappy sound when he saw the black hair belonged to Harry. The hippogriff's coat was dull and he had gained weight from too little exercise. When Harry bowed, Buckbeak made a harsh sound between a squawk and a screech and deliberately lay down again with his back to Harry. "I miss him too, Buckbeak," Harry said softly. Buckbeak growled.

After Hagrid's lessons, Harry knew he shouldn't approach Buckbeak if his bow wasn't returned, but he did anyway, walking a wide path around the edge of the room to avoid the rat bones scattered around the floor. When he got to Buckbeak's head, the hippogriff got up again and moved to the opposite side of the room. Harry stopped and sat down, irritated at getting the cold shoulder. When Buckbeak didn't turn around after several minutes, Harry stood up. "Bye, Buckbeak." The hippogriff didn't move.

Harry slammed the door on the way out, hard enough to hear a loud echo up and down the hall. "It's not my fault!" he said angrily to no one, as if a couple weeks ago, he didn't think the opposite.

&&&

He spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on his sleep and writing his Potions essays. It was dark before Harry finished his work, leaving the other subjects for later. He gave Hedwig some Owl Treats and went to wash up, then down to the kitchen to see if Tonks and Mr. Weasley had returned yet.

Mrs. Weasley was moving around, putting the last touches on dinner while Hermione helped. There was a slightly dazed look on her face that put Harry in mind of Luna, but when Mrs. Weasley handed her several carrots and a knife, she gave them as much concentration as she would a test. Surprisingly, Lupin had showed up; the good health Harry saw in him the night before was starting to fade, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Mr. Weasley and Tonks were also home, and the three of them were whispering back and forth over a booklet and some parchment at the end of the table. Before Harry could see what it was, the discussion came to an end and Lupin folded the parchment and put it in his pocket.

"Hello, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, "dinner will be ready in a bit. Would you set the table, please?"

Mr. Weasley took over the chopping from Hermione, and she helped Harry set out the plates and got more food from the pantry. She spoke for the first time, asking Tonks, "How's work?" Harry tried to catch her eye and ask what was wrong, but Hermione wouldn't look at him. "Mrs. Weasley said Talione visited you today."

"We're not doing much 'sides running after shadows. At least five people a day say they saw Voldemort or a Death Eater sneaking around, and we're running in circles," Tonks said grimly. "Fudge let everyone off work early as a treat, because we caught those two this morning. Happiest I've seen him in two years."

"Of course he is," Lupin said. "Because it looks like he's making progress." He tapped the booklet in front of him. "Especially now these are out."

Harry picked up the book. It was titled _Against the Dark: Protection for Home and Family. _The Ministry's emblem was below the title with the words "Safety methods prescribed and suggested by the Ministry of Magic". Harry flipped through the book; inside was information about Dementors, multiple charms and ant-jinxes that could be put on one's house, suggestions of spells used to get away from or fight a Death Eater, and near the back, a list of names of known Death Eaters. All of them corresponded to the list of names Harry had published, with a few added.

"Where did you get this?" Harry asked.

"The Ministry gave everyone a copy this morning," Mr. Weasley said. "The books will be sent out tomorrow morning to every family with a wizard in it. A revised copy is going to be printed for the Muggles next week."

"At least Fudge's doing something right," Harry said. "Do you know who his replacement will be yet?"

None of them did. "Fudge's keeping it a secret," Mr. Weasley said, "so You-Know-Who won't assassinate the person before they take the office."

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "Hermione, would you tell the others dinner's ready?" For once Hermione wasn't paying attention and jumped when Mrs. Weasley addressed her, almost running out of the room after the instructions were repeated.

"Is something wrong with her?" Tonks asked.

Harry shrugged. "She and Ron fought earlier. We're worried Voldemort might attack her."

"Dumbledore's too careful for that," Lupin said. "She'll be perfectly safe."

It wasn't very reassuring. "That's exactly what she said," Harry replied gloomily.

Hermione returned in a few minutes with Ron and Ginny. Talione had said to start without him. The rest of the platters and bowls were soon on the table and no one wasted time helping themselves. Harry picked at his food, listening to Mr. Weasley quizzing Hermione and Tonks about how a television worked. With the chair next to Ginny empty, Harry felt like Sirius would rush in at any moment, annoyed they didn't wait for him.

The door opened and Harry glanced at the stairs, startled, for a brief moment believing his daydream was real and Sirius had returned. Only Talione came down the stairs, shattering the illusion. He apologized for being late and Harry returned to his food, disappointed.

He couldn't shake off his moodiness, and only spoke when Mr. Weasley asked him questions Hermione and Tonks couldn't answer, or when Mrs. Weasley offered him another helping of something. Dinner passed quickly and soon Mrs. Weasley was herding him up to the second floor with the others.

&&&

I'm soooo glad to be back at college where I have the Internet! I should have the next chapter up in far less time! Thank you for reading so far!

An idea to those who also read #6: anyone else think there was another reason Sirius' brother Regulus was killed? R.A.B. sounded quite familiar…


	9. Letters and Conversations

(Disclaimer: Anything mentioned in the six real books belongs to JK Rowling. Everything else is mine. So there.)

I noticed the site removes the extra space I use as section breaks, so I rebooted chapter seven with that annoying ( ! ) added.

Cheers!

**Chapter 8: Letters and Conversations**

After Hermione left, Harry and Ron watched the _Daily Prophet_ anxiously. The number of odd occurrences and deaths attributed to the Death Eaters had doubled, and every day they half-expected to see Hermione or her parents mentionedGinny had more faith in their friend and scolded them for worrying, but she had her eye on the paper too.

Talione didn't take long to give Harry his own magic permit, surprising Harry with it when no one else was around. Harry was indifferent at first—if there was an emergency, he was going use magic whether he had a permit or not!—until he realized he couldn't back out of Occlumency with Snape if Dumbledore asked him to resume it over the summer. It wasn't that he didn't want to learn—the prophecy and his own inability for keeping Voldemort from possessing him made it clear Harry needed it-- but he dreaded spending the only time he ever had away from Snape with the professor.

Fortunately, there was no order for Harry to continue his lessons. Snape never attended the meetings that followed Hermione's departure, and Dumbledore was too busy to stop and talk. This didn't bother Harry as much as it had the year before; he was puzzled about what the headmaster was doing, but his embarrassment over his tantrum in Dumbledore's office still stung, as did the memory of the conversation afterward. Harry was grateful for the space he was given.

Though Dumbledore didn't bother them, other matters intruded. Almost a week after Harry's birthday, they got a surprise visit from Lupin during breakfast. Only Mrs. Weasley, Harry, and Ron were in the room when they heard knocking on the front door; Ginny and Talione were still asleep. Before Mrs. Weasley could go upstairs to open the door, they heard murmurs upstairs, and Lupin came into the kitchen with the missing and unusually wide-awake redhead in tow.

"Hello, Molly," Lupin said. "Sorry to intrude, but there are a few things I have to take care of this morning."

"Morning, Remus. Have you eaten breakfast already?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "Or I could make tea, if you'd like."

"Tea sounds nice." He pulled up a chair, eyeing the large stack of food Ron was wolfing down. "And some toast, if you don't mind." Mrs. Weasley beamed; she was still under the impression that Lupin and Harry didn't eat enough. She summoned another plate from the cupboard, filled it, and set it in front of the werewolf. Harry grinned at his exasperation and took two pieces while Mrs. Weasley's back was turned. "How are you?" Lupin asked them. "Arthur said you've have been on edge since Hermione left."

"Harry finally understands what we go through every summer," Ginny said, grinning at his embarrassment.

Lupin smiled. He pulled two envelopes from his pocket and gave them to Ron and Harry. "This might distract you. Since I was stopping by, I thought you'd like these in person."

Ron choked on his food and Harry blanched. They were so worried about Hermione, they'd forgotten about their O.W.L. results. Ron swallowed and glanced nervously at Lupin, then his mother, who was watching them intently. "Er…thanks…On three, mate?" Harry nodded, then gave into his nerves and then ripped his envelope open before Ron could count.

_WIZARDING EXAMINATIONS AUTHORITY: Head Examiner: Griselda Marchbanks_

_ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVELS_

_Mr. Harry Potter, _

_Congratulations on another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed with your O.W.L. scores is a form for you to fill out with the classes you would like to continue at N.E.W.T. level._

_Grading:_

_Astronomy ...A Care Of Magical Creatures ...O_

_Charms...E Divination...P_

_Herbology...A History of Magic...D_

_Potions...O Transfiguration...E_

_Defense Against Dark Arts...O+_

_Total O.W.L.s received: 9_

_A curve of one full mark has been given to all students due to events taking place during this exam.'_

_+For an astounding corporeal Patronus, your examiner has given you extra credit._

The "D" in History of Magic, and "P" in Divination weren't surprising. The O in Potions was. Harry assumed it was because he had an easier time without Snape distracting him with insults and breathing down his neck. He breathed a sigh of relief and grinned at Ron, who hadn't touched his letter. "I got nine."

All the attention was on Ron now and he looked like he was going to be sick. "Oh, get on with it!" Ginny grabbed the envelope from her brother, ripped it open, and handed it back. Ron's glare at her disappeared when he saw his score.

"Eight."

Mrs. Weasley took the sheet and looked over it. "That's brilliant, Ron!"

Ron regained his color and smiled. "I bet Hermione got the full twelve," he said. "The rest of the OWLs going out today?" He resumed eating, looking much happier.

"I assume so," Lupin said. "There's a form on the back for you to check off the classes you want to take this year. The lists of school supplies will be sent in another week."

"Wire dey enteprly?"

Ginny answered. "OWL's are handled by the Ministry. McGonagall doesn't know everyone's scores yet." To Ron's surprised look, she scowled and added, "Ron, just because it isn't Quidditch or chess, doesn't mean it isn't important. Listen to Dad more often."

"I know that! What about everyone else?" Ron asked, clearing his mouth. "Your list isn't here either."

"A precaution," Lupin said. "We don't want the Muggle-born students and their families going to Diagon before the new security measures are finished." The conversation was interrupted by a crash and a pained cry upstairs. Mrs. Black started shrieking, and Ginny went upstairs to help Talione shut her up.

"Hogwarts never had transfers before, why are so many coming now?" Harry asked.

"Some families believe their children would be safer in Hogwarts. Durmstrang's reputation took a turn for the worst after Karkaroff was discovered to be a Death Eater, and Beauxbatons was attacked in the last war, and earlier by Grindewald."

The shouts upstairs stopped, and Ginny came back down with Talione. "…woman!" he was saying angrily. "What if Hermione's parents came? Or heaven forbid, my mother?"

"What happened?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"I fell down the stairs," Talione grumbled. He gave Lupin a puzzled look as he sat down. "Good morning. Aren't you supposed to be at Hermione's house?"

"Moody's niece is getting married this weekend so we traded shifts." Lupin said.

Talione started to protest as Mrs. Weasley filled a plate for him, then rolled his eyes and let her. "Tell him I said congratulations." Lupin smiled and said he would. "Did you give Dumbledore my letter?"

"I did. He already filled the paperwork out for you, so you can cancel the Ministry trip."

"Good. If I saw Fudge again, I'm not sure he'd leave with all his teeth." He dug into his food with more enthusiasm than usual. "The paper said the two Death Eaters the Aurors caught when to Azkaban the other day. Is that safe?" he asked. "I thought one of them would be sent home at least."

Everyone stared at him; Lupin was frowning, and Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips in disapproval of the topic he chose. "That's the cover story," Lupin said. "I can tell you they aren't in Azkaban with the Dementors gone, but anything more is private business."

"What do you mean, home?" Ron asked in a low voice.

"One of them was an American," Talione said darkly. "I had to go see them at the Ministry." This was the first time they'd heard anything solid about his visit other than the little bit he'd said at lunch that day. It explained his odd lack of reaction when they told him about the capture.

"Really no point," Talione continued, "since the Aurors already knew who they were. My headmaster two years ago—Carlos Mayhew--his brother Aaron was one of the ones caught." Lupin started to ask something apparently obvious to Talione, because he added, "Don't ask. For all I know they were there; Carlos was a Death Eater too, before one of the students murdered him. Maybe that's why we were attacked and this weapon crap the Order's going on about is just that."

"Weapon?" Harry repeated. The Order had thought Voldemort was looking for one the previous year too.

Talione fiddled with his fork for a minute. "Rumors. Don't ask."

They let the matter drop and returned to their breakfasts, and the kitchen became silent except for the sound of scraping silverware and requests for something on the table. After a few minutes Talione spoke up again. "When are we going to Dragon Alley?"

"The school lists will be sent in a week," Lupin said. "It's up to Mrs. Weasley whether you're going or not."

There was a collective groan around the table; Ron, Harry, and Ginny hadn't forgotten being left behind last year, and even Talione was tired of being cooped up. Mrs. Weasley smile was a little strained. "Oh, quiet! You can all go this year, as soon as Albus says it is safe." Ron whooped and punched the air and Harry grinned. The last time he was in Diagon was before his third year, and he missed it. Ginny was happy too, until Ron accidentally flicked egg in her face.

Lupin finished his tea and stood. "Thank you for the food, Molly," he said. "Harry, there's something I'd like to show you upstairs before I leave."

Worried again, Harry followed him upstairs to the front hall. Lupin's cloak was on a hook beside the door and he pulled another letter out of it. On it in blue ink was _Prongs, jr. _"Sirius left this with his will," Lupin said. "Open it." Harry opened the envelope, and unfolded the letter inside. He noticed his hands shaking a little and took a deep breath to calm down.

_If you're reading this, I'm obviously dead. _

_Be strong. You lived without me before, now you must do it again. And don't you dare feel guilty; it's infinitely better to go out fighting than waste away in the hellhole I call home._

_Since you're not of age yet, you will have missed the will being read. Here's what it said:_

_Tonks received Grimmauld Place for the Order, and she and her family got 3,000 galleons, Moony got 6,000 galleons. Weasleys too. Hermione got 750 galleons for school. So did you—I knew you wouldn't accept or use any more than that. Hagrid got Buckbeak, of course, and he'll be joining you at Hogwarts this year I think; he'll be happier there, and hopefully have a diet of more than rats._

_Hermione will be getting a letter and a vault key from Moony, so she can get the money when she needs it. The Weasleys know they got something, but not how big the amount was; I had it transferred to their vault to surprise them._

_Take care of Moony for me. Make sure he uses his share of the money; he needs some decent clothing at least, and it won't be any good just lying in a vault. And make sure he eats. Now that his pack is gone completely, I'm worried he'll waste away._

_Now, some last advice:_

_Ask Dumbledore about the prophecy, and don't stop badgering him until he tells you. You have every right to know it, and you should have known it ages ago._

_DON'T PUSH AWAY YOUR FRIENDS! You will not survive by yourself and shame on you if you try! Friendship is one of the most valuable commodities our side has!_

_Whenever there's opportunity, act your age. You're young, have some fun. Find a girlfriend. Wipe the floor with the ferret's face, and the Quidditch Pitch too._

_I'm sorry I couldn't be more of a godfather, Harry. Goodbye and good luck. _

_Snuffles_

Harry read the letter twice, then folded it carefully and put it in his pocket. "Thanks, Professor," he said quietly.

"I haven't been your professor for two years, Harry," Lupin said, exasperated and amused at once. Moody had been the same way after being freed from his trunk in Harry's fourth year, grumbling about students asking him questions and expecting him to answer as a professor even though an imposter taught in his place. "Call me Lupin, at least. Or Moony." He picked up his cloak and put it on. "I have to go now, but I'll be here tomorrow night if you want to talk."

Harry nodded, said goodbye, and closed the door after Lupin, grief churning his thoughts again. Sirius wouldn't know that Dumbledore told Harry about the prophecy, and he wasn't sure the rest of the Order knew either. And he wasn't ready to tell it to his friends. He knew what their reactions would be, and he already had enough pity.

He went downstairs and finished breakfast with the others, afterwards retreating to his room, taking some food with him for Hedwig. His owl was awake in her cage and though she held still while Harry fed her, she started moving about restlessly a minute later and flew to the windowsill, pecking the frame. Eyeing the bored owl, Harry decided it would be a good time to write Hermione. He found some parchment and sat in the armchair. Seeing the parchment, Hedwig flew to the top of the chair and quieted, as if she thought Harry would use Pig if she didn't behave.

_"Dear Hermione,_

_I can finally sympathize with you and Ron worrying about me every year…_

Harry grimaced, scratched the sentence out, and started a new letter. If he let Hermione know how much they were worrying, she'd think he had a vision or something and worry that something bad was going to happen.

_"Dear Hermione,_

_Lupin came this morning with our OWLs. Knowing you, you probably got perfect scores in all but Astronomy. Ron got eight, I got nine. We both failed Divination, but I got an O in Potions. I have to put up with Snape for two more years! He'll be a monster when he finds out!_

_Talione's enjoying the school books you loaned him. He doesn't like Divination either, but he's been pestering Tonks about the spells he's learning. He could rival Ron in strategy, the way he talks, but Ron wiped the board with him when they played chess. You'll be happy to hear there's a truce between them now._

Talione had taken one too many barbs from Ron and snapped two nights ago, dragging him to the kitchen to talk. Ron was quiet about what he said, but they hadn't reappeared for an hour and now he went easy on the newcomer. Talione's knives enforced the truce; if Ron still disliked him, he wasn't stupid enough to try something major until he could use magic again.

_Remember when he went to the Ministry? He finally cracked today. One of the Death Eaters they caught then was an American and related to an old headmaster of his. You'll probably have theories about this, so tell us when you get back, I'd rather not think about them right now._

_Are you feeling better? You were acting funny before you left._

_Say hi to Moody for me today and tell him congratulations for his niece's wedding. He doesn't know we know, so feel free to surprise him. And tell him to put a charm on his wooden leg, it gives him away._

_See you (hopefully) soon._

_Harry"_

Hedwig watched expectantly while Harry sealed the envelope, taking it with a pleased 'whoo'. "Remember, girl, stay over at Hermione's tonight or take the long way back." Hedwig nibbled his ear and hooted again, impatient to be off. She knew the drill. Harry opened the window and watched her fly away.

He hoped Hermione would reply soon. Having Lupin tell them she was alright wasn't the same as hearing it from her themselves.

So happy to upload again! Please review, I like getting email. Criticism is welcome as long as it's the helpful kind. :)


	10. More Letters and Night Visits

_(Disclaimer: If it isn't in the first six books, it's mine!)_

_I'm back from my hiatus!_

_Still using the dreaded . Oh, the horrors!_

_I can't wait until they finally get to Hogwarts! I took quite some time with this…GAH! Neither Harry nor Talione wants to be in the limelight and they've been playing hide-and-seek with my muse. Maybe if I tie them to a chair and force them to listen to _How The Grinch Stole Christmas_…_

_&&&_

**Chapter 9: More Letters and Night Visits**

The next week was more eventful than the previous ones. In two days seven Death Eaters were sighted and reported in the paper and a giant was reported outside Dublin, causing memory modification of two buses full of tourists. And the Hogwarts booklists came that Wednesday.

They arrived shortly after breakfast, followed by an owl carrying a letter from Hermione. Harry turned his attention away from the chess game to open the letter and while he was distracted Talione ordered his bishop to capture Harry's queen.

"How is she?" asked Ron.

"She got ten OWLs and said we can't complain about studying anymore," Harry said. "Bill's taking her to Diagon Saturday." He exchanged Hermione's letter for his letter from Hogwarts. When Harry tore it open, another note fell out on top of the booklist.

Talione watched Harry's eyes grow bigger as he read the note and Ginny and Ron jumped when Harry crowed, "All of Umbridge's bans are gone! I can play Quidditch again!"

"Good, you can have your spot back," Ginny said.

Harry glanced at Ginny. "You don't mind it?"

She shrugged. "You're better than me," she said. "I like Quidditch, but Seeker has too much pressure on it, and I'd rather see Gryffindor win."

Harry grinned at her, glad it wasn't an issue. Impatiently Harry's remaining knight glared up at him and shouted in a tiny voice, "Stop starin' at the lass and play!" Harry's ears turned red and he made a careless move, positioning a bishop where Talione's castle could get it.

He smirked and prepared to wipe it off the board, but Ron hissed, "No, not that one! Move the queen in front of the king!" With Talione sitting on the floor, Ron could easily watch the game over his shoulder, his letter forgotten in his hand.

It was the third time he'd interfered and Talione didn't consider himself that much a rookie to the game. "Yessir, General Weasley!" he grumbled. However he followed Ron's suggestion as he had the last two times. "Read your letter or something, and let me play my own way!" He still didn't like Ron's company much, but things between them had settled down, and with only four of them at the Black house he couldn't very well ignore Ron for the other two. So Talione put up with it.

Ron opened the envelope. He had a note as well. "Huh. McGonagall revoked my prefect status," he said, sounding not the least bit disappointed. "I'll be surprised if Hermione still has her badge after taking Umbridge to the centaurs."

Harry ordered a castle to E3 to capture a knight. "Check." Harry grimaced. "The professors won't take her badge. They'll give her the Order of Merlin, first class."

"Mum won't be happy, but now I can practice Quidditch more," Ron said with more enthusiasm. "Any idea who the new captain is? You should get it, Harry; you've been on the team the longest."

Harry shook his head. "If Professor McGonagall was going to make me captain, I'd know by now. Katie's the oldest on the team, she'll get the badge."

"She didn't mention anything about Quidditch when I saw her," Talione offered. Professor McGonagall went over his schooling after the latest meeting a couple nights previous, waspish over something that happened within the Order. She reminded him of his mother; you didn't want to cross either in a bad mood except at a distance and with kid gloves. "Harry, you wouldn't get the badge anyway since you're the Seeker. Once you see the Snitch you have to give it your full attention. A captain can't do that, watching the other players."

Ron prodded Talione in the back more sharply than necessary. "Your turn."

"Ow!" Talione jabbed him in return with his elbow and focused on the board again. He'd lost all interest in the game but he made a King's Castle to protect his pieces. "Check."

Harry wiped Talione's king off the board.

It took some convincing before Mrs. Weasley let them go to meet Bill and Hermione at Diagon Alley, and Saturday couldn't come fast enough. Talione was couldn't sleep more than a few hours the night before and rather than stay in his room he went down to the kitchen again. He was surprised to see light underneath the door and when he knocked he heard Mrs. Weasley call, "Come in!"

She had company; any trace of sleepiness in him disappeared when he saw Dumbledore. A pair of mugs and a teapot sat between them and a wooden clock Talione didn't see before stood at Mrs. Weasley's elbow. "Talione! What are you doing out of bed?" said Mrs. Weasley.

It took a moment for the words to penetrate his shock. "I couldn't sleep. Should I go?" Something wasn't right; the tension in the air was so thick it was almost solid.

"No, you don't have to," Dumbledore said. "As a matter of fact, I was planning to speak to you later today, but now is as good a time as any. Would you like something to drink?"

With Dumbledore acting as his guardian in Europe and running Hogwarts and the Order, Talione didn't have a choice but to trust him. But now something about Dumbledore's calm expression made him uneasy. _'What are you planning, old man?'_

"Is there any chocolate?" he asked. Dumbledore nodded and summoned a mug for Talione as he sat down. Now he was at the table he could see the names of the Weasleys around the face of the clock. The hands marked with Ginny, Ron, and the adults were labeled "Away", the three oldest boys were "Home", and Fred, and George were working late. The twins lived in Diagon Alley and didn't come except for meetings so Talione hadn't met them yet. The shop they had below the apartment was one of the places he planned to visit in the morning. "Did Mr. Weasley make that?" he asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Yes," she replied. "Albus got it from the Burrow for me. With the war going on I feel better knowing everyone is alright."

Talione bit his tongue before an irrational "lucky you" slipped out, jealous of the reassurance the clock gave her. Even though their whereabouts weren't precise she still knew everyone she loved was safe.

Mrs. Weasley stifled a yawn behind her hand. "There's no need to stay up on our accounts," Dumbledore said kindly. "Go back to bed. I can let myself out later."

Thus excused from her hostess' duties, she nodded. "Goodnight, Albus. Goodnight, Talione."

"Pleasant dreams, Molly."

"Goodnight, Mrs. Weasley."

She left, but not before giving Talione a worried glance that made him warier than before. Dumbledore finished his cup of tea and poured another. "Is something wrong, Talione?"

"Hm?"

"You couldn't sleep. I know you must be worried about your family, but is there something else on your mind?"

"Harry, Ron, and Ginny's been going on about Diagon Alley the last couple days," Talione said. He drank some of his cocoa, avoiding Dumbledore's eyes. "I don't think I can go."

"Why not? Molly said you were looking forward to it."

"I was. But the Death Eater's are looking for me and the closest thing I have to a disguise are my glasses and a packet of Eddie's hair dye," he said. "And even if I made myself look different, I'd have to keep it up. There's going to be questions if someone no one knows shows up one day and disappears again forever, and then I appear with the group at the train station."

"You certainly have thought this through," Dumbledore said, a little amused. "There is enough security around Diagon now and I also arranged for additional security for your group, so you will be safe going as you are."

"Does that mean I can stop these? Talione asked, pointing to the offending object. "There's no point in them; it's obvious I'm covering something, who wears sunglasses indoors? And I can barely see at night unless I'm almost sitting on a lamp."

"Yes, you may. Anything else I should know about?"

His second problem was more serious to him than his safety, and Dumbledore staring at him wasn't helping any. Talione felt like a bug pinned to a card and a little embarrassed, he said quickly, "My mom hasn't sent me enough money for all of my supplies. I didn't know I'd need so much. I have enough for the clothes and my wand, but not the rest of it."

"Easily fixed," replied Dumbledore. "Hogwarts has a fund set aside to help those who need financial aid. Your friends will show you where to find everything."

Talione almost breathed a sigh of relief and held it in. At a normal speed, he said, "I can pay it back later when I get in touch with Mom again." He didn't like to be in debt. "Our savings are just stretched for now, since we had to replace most of my stuff and Jamie's, and Ashley's starting school this year."

"The Ministry adds to the fund every year, so it is unnecessary," Dumbledore said. "However, there is something you could do for me. I talked to Minerva—Professor McGonagall—last night about what she went over with you. Before I give you my proposal, I will say now that you have the skills required to perform successfully, and Harry's performance last year proved it could be done."

The shoe he had been waiting for had finally dropped. Talione felt trapped. "Very well, tell me."

It took some arguing over the next hour before Talione would accept the proposal, and he wasn't happy when he did.

Hogwarts was going to be very interesting.

_Wow…Diagon Alley's next!_

_I have finally solved my writer's block: skip ahead and write something else. Now when they get to Hogwarts, I have about fifteen pages of exerpts to cut and paste!_

_Does cartwheels_

_Reviews please! I'm writing whether or not there are still people reading this, but feedback is nice._


	11. Diagon Alley

(Disclaimer: If it's in the first six official books, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. If it's in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, kudos go to Fred and George Weasley. (Also Rowling's stuff, but don't tell them that!) )

For those who don't know, NFL is the National Football League. NBA's basketball. I don't watch sports, but it was the best way I could think of to describe Hagrid without a cliché.

**Chapter 10: Diagon Alley**

When Tonks stopped the Ministry car stopped outside a seedy-looking pub, Talione was having second thoughts—fourths, by this time-- about going to Diagon Alley. The black-bearded giant awaiting them in front of it was scowling at the passerby who turned to stare at him. Recruiters for the NBA or the NFL would drool if they saw him, if they could disregard the coat made of a hide Talione didn't recognize or the pink umbrella he carried.

"We'll be done in a few hours," Mr. Weasley told Tonks. She nodded and pulled away without another word. She had been unusually quiet that morning and none of them figured out why yet.

As soon as Harry got out of the car the giant swept him up in a bearhug. Harry rubbed his ribs when he was set down again, but he looked overjoyed to see the giant. "Hello, Hagrid! We didn't know you were the bodyguard!" Diagon Alley was an attack waiting to happen with so many students about and an Auror group had been installed there a couple weeks ago for protection. But Harry was Harry and he needed personal guard as well. He'd been irritable when he heard the news.

"With a bundle o' Aurors here already," Hagrid said cheerfully, "Yeh don' need any more followin' yeh all 'round." He gave them teenagers a once-over, frowning when he saw Talione behind Ron. "Yeh mus' be Talione. Who hexed yer eyes?"

"No one. They came that way." Talione said waspishly. It was fun when he shocked Ginny, Ron, and Harry at breakfast but now he wished he had his glasses back, even if he hadn't figured out how to get rid of the blue color. The Muggles were giving him a few double-takes as well.

Mrs. Weasley was in the same state of anxiety. "Can we please go in?"

Hagrid nodded and led the way into the pub. The large pub was deserted, rows of empty tables and chairs cluttering the floor. The only occupant was a man standing behind the bar, drying a stack of glasses. He looked up hopefully when they came in and then sighed when he noted four of them were of school age. "Passin' through, Tom," Hagrid said.

They crossed the floor and went out a back door into a small stone courtyard devoid of anything but trash and weeds. Here Hagrid raised his umbrella and tapped a few bricks in the middle of the wall in front of them. Talione jumped when the wall groaned loudly and a hole appeared in the middle, growing larger as the bricks peeled back to form an archway.

A few of the store windows he could see from the arch were boarded up, and many of the other windows were covered in large white Wanted posters with pictures of loose Death Eaters and smaller Ministry of Magic posters in purple giving advice on combating creatures like Boggarts and Dementors. Ranged along the street were a few small stalls advertising trinkets for protection that were very likely useless junk, like the yellow plastic ring his brother found in a cereal box.

Mr. Weasley glowered at the nearest stall where someone was rattling runes on chains at the passing shoppers. "I thought the Aurors would've rid the street of those. If I was only on duty…"

"Wait until Monday for that, we're in a hurry," Mrs. Weasley said, consulting a list. "We should go to Flourish and Blotts and then Madame Malkin's, Merlin knows you need new robes _again, _Ron, I wish you would stop growing..."

"I have to go to the bank to get the money first," Talione reminded her.

There was an "Oops," from Hagrid and he pulled a jingling moneybag from one of the coat's pockets and handed it to him. "I forgot all abou' that. Dumbledore said its yers."

"Thanks." Talione opened the bag and stirred the contents with his finger. It was a majority of silver with a few gold coins at the bottom and he tied the bag again.

Ron's eyes were wide. "Do we get one?"

"Sure! But it comes with three feet of red tape, Hogwarts issue," Talione told him. Ron grimaced. "Yeah, I thought so. It's only a loan anyways." Although it was a little heavy to be comfortable, the string on the bag was long enough to go around his neck with his permit and he zipped his jacket over it to foil would-be thieves. "What's Flourish and Blotts?"

"Bookstore," Ginny answered. "Mum, do we all need to go? We'll be done faster if we split up."

The others agreed with her. None of them knew where Hermione was and they wanted to see her and get the maximum time possible at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Mrs. Weasley was torn between getting the shopping done early and the safety of the group. "All right," she conceded. "Ginny, you're staying with us. Hagrid can you see the boys to Madame Malkin's?"

"Don' fret, Molly," Hagrid said reassuringly. "I'll keep an eye on them."

"Keep your eyes open for Bill and Hermione," Mr. Weasley reminded them unnecessarily. "We'll meet at Fred and George's shop."

The groups split up despite Mrs. Weasley's misgivings and her group set off towards the bookstore. Talione kept his eyes open as they walked to Madame Malkin's. There were Aurors spread out along the street; some wore bright red robes to make themselves stand out, one posted at least every several yards, but Talione noticed a few customers sitting at tables and talking quietly where the Aurors were absent. They were very alert for shoppers, not quite pulling off the casual look, like plainclothes cops at home. The real shoppers were huddled in their small groups, nervously looking around as they walked and no one talked to anyone else except for the occasional hello from students Ron or Harry knew. A couple saw Hermione and Bill earlier, but couldn't say where they were.

Madame Malkin's only had two posters in the window. One showed an ugly troll of a man named Goyle and the other described a Dementor. Since he was so big Hagrid chose to stand guard outside while the others got their robes. The shop was brighter inside than others because of the fewer papers blocking the sunlight and they were greeted by Madame Malkin herself.

There was a young woman with long black hair already on a footstool at the back of the shop getting fitted for new robes by a younger witch with pins in her mouth. She glanced at Talione when he got on the stool beside her. Madame Malkin dropped a black robe over his head and started pinning it.

The customer turned her head forward again to look at the mirror, and saw Ron and Harry reflected behind them. Harry's expression wasn't friendly. "Hello, Cho."

"Hello Harry, Ron," she said. Talione turned to look at them and got a pin jabbed in his leg. ("Hold still!")

"Are you still teaching the D.A. this year?" Cho asked Harry.

"Dunno. Depends on how bad the professor is in Defense this year," Harry said. "And if Edgecombe decides to betray us again."

Madame Malkin's assistant put in a last pin in Cho's robes and stood. "You're done, dear."

Cho stepped off the stool, glaring at Harry. "Marietta did what she thought was right. It wasn't fair for Granger to hex her like that. She still can't get the marks off!"

Ron snickered. "That's what she gets for running to Umbridge," he said. "No one double crosses us and gets away with it." The assistant gathered up Cho's robes and followed her to the front of the store. Cho didn't look at any of them while she paid and stalked out without another word.

"What's the D.A.?" Talione asked.

"Dumbledore's Army," Harry said. "Though I guess we should change it officially to Defense Association now, or something like it."

"So it's a dueling club?" Talione asked. He nodded.

"You should continue it, Harry," Ron said as he took Cho's place on the stool.

"It's like I told Cho," Harry said. "We're starting Newt studies this year. I might not have the time."

"Is Defense Against the Dark Arts the only class like that?" Talione asked.

"Yeah. And if no one volunteers for the position this year, Snape'll get it," Ron said. "He's been after it for years."

"Whether this Snape gets it or not, the D.A. sounds like a good opportunity to practice," Talione said. "With Voldemort--"

Ron winced and the assistant jabbed Ron with a pin. Madame Malkin gasped and dropped his hem. "Don't say that name!" she hissed, here eyes darting around the shop as if Death Eaters were going to spring out of the racks of clothes.

Talione grimaced at his reflection. "Why? He's an idiot. Just another man with idea of world domination," he said. Madame Malkin scowled.

Harry frowned and walked out of sight behind a row of dress robes. "You don't know him like we do," he said harshly. "He's more powerful than you think."

Since he was in England Talione erred on the side of caution and refrained from calling them scaredy-cats. "The Death Eaters are still human under that garbage they wear. They die just as easily as anyone else."

Madame Malkin's fingers shook as she put in a last pin and stood up. "If you have any common sense you will stop saying those things now!" she admonished, shaking a finger at him. "It is your choice to say such things but you will not do it in my shop, young man!"

Taken aback, Talione raised his hands in surrender. "All right, I'll shut up. Just let me pay for my stuff before you kick me out," he said. The witch's lips pursed and stayed that way while she wrapped and rang up his uniforms, happy to see his back as he went outside to join Hagrid.

"'Lo, Talione," said Hagrid. "Yeh get yer robes?"

"My cloak's on order, but I got the rest," Talione replied. He leaned against the bricks beside the door. Eeylops Owl Emporium was across the street a couple doors down. He could hear the hooting from inside the shop. He already missed Auric and Shadow fiercely and he would've liked an owl to keep him company, if he could afford to keep and care for one. "If I stayed in there any longer, Malkin would've hexed me. I still have a bunch to learn about Voldemort."

Hagrid flinched. A passing couple jumped and picked up their pace as they went past. A few feet to his right the nearby stall owner glanced askance at them and edged away. "I ough'da give you one of me amulets fer free," the vendor hissed. "Not good, saying You-Know-Who's name in public. Only Harry Potter has ever faced him and lived!"

Talione turned to look at him but before he could get out something spiteful the wizard flinched again. "Yer eyes! Already cursed, ye are!" He picked up one of the silver chains and tossed it at him. "Here! A gift fer better luck!"

He caught it. On the chain was a small mass of silver wire twisted around what looked like a black marble that glittered blue when Talione turned it in the sunlight. "Thank you," he said politely. Harry chose to exit the store with Ron right then. The vendor gaped when he saw Harry's famous scar and he muttered what sounded like a quick prayer under his breath. He was going to press more charms on them, but Hagrid started the group moving again first.

Talione thought Harry and Ron were going to give him a piece of their minds, but all Ron said was, "Seen Hermione yet?"

"No," said Hagrid. "No' yet."

Eeylops was their next stop for some Owl Treats for Pig and Hedwig, and then they visited the apothecary, Talione got a new Potions kit and Harry and Ron bought refills for theirs. Before they paid the other Weasleys joined them with Bill and Hermione, who promptly squeezed the breath out of Harry and Ron. She was happy to see Hagrid too, but her arms went only so far around him. She asked him about someone named Grawp. Grawp was fine but Hagrid gave Talione a suspicious look before he said so. It was a sore reminder of his status as an outsider.

While they walked to Fred and George's shop Mrs. Weasley deplored over Bill's long hair and choice of earrings and Hermione politely did her best to include Talione in the conversation. Her attempt fell flat as the subject changed to people they knew from school, in particular someone named Neville Longbottom she had seen in the Alley with his grandmother.

"…91...92…here we are," Mr. Weasley muttered beside Talione. "Whoa!"

The windows of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was an epileptic's worst nightmare. The yellow and purple sign over the door identified it as the right store, but it was not needed. The store was very clear against its sober neighbors. It looked like a firework display had been set off in the right window with a bundle of the store's products shrieking and flashing neon colors at the people going by. Several stopped in the street to gawk and impede traffic. The left window had two Ministry posters—pictures of a wizard named Macnair, and one Augustus Rookwood—and a poster of something that looked like a blue lunchbox. A small barrel sat behind the window with a label advertising the contents as fake barf.

Since he was too tall for the doorway Hagrid stayed outside again. The inside of the shop was extremely crowded and each of the party moved away as space opened up. Talione stayed near the door, unable to get near the shelves. He wished he was taller. The shelves were piled high with stuff like boxes of quills that wrote smart-aleck answers or checked spelling, Puking Pasties, punching telescopes, and fake wands.

The last was a reminder that he forgot to buy the most important thing on his list.

He saw Bill and Mr. Weasley standing in front of a black and white sign advertising Muggle magic tricks and moved slowly toward them. He passed Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, looking at a collection of pink shelves, but he couldn't find the other three in the crowd. "Mr. Weasley!" He pushed past a gaggle of little kids staring awe-struck at a bunch of colorful furballs rolling around in a cage. One of them tripped him and he stepped on Bill's foot. "Sorry, Bill. Wow, it's a zoo in here! You have a minute?"

Mr. Weasley put a box of card tricks back on the shelf. "What is it?"

"I forgot to go to Ollivanders!" Talione said urgently. "Can one of you take me when you're finished here?"

"Of course. Do you see Harry or Ron anywhere?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Talione looked around again. Ron was standing on the other side of the shop, talking to the puff of orange-hair in front of him. None of the Weasleys were that short, so he didn't know who it was. "I don't see Harry, but Ron's talking to someone near the Dungbombs."

"If we can get to the door, I can see you to Ollivanders," Bill said.

Talione laughed. "Hagrid said we have an hour left. It'll take half that to get out. Give my best to the twins, would you?" he told Mr. Weasley. "Pity I can't meet them today." Mr. Weasley nodded.

It didn't take half an hour to get out of the store, although it took a few stepped-on feet and curses to get there. After telling Hagrid where they were going, they set off. Bill kept his hand in his pocket as they walked down the street. "Is Ollivanders the only wand shop around here?" Talione asked.

"No, but if you want the best wand he's the one to go to," Bill said. "He remembers every wand he's ever sold, too."

Ollivander's shop looked drab in comparison to the twins' shop. The window was poster-less and dusty with a single wand on display on a fading purple pad. A red-robed Auror stood outside and Bill chose to stay outside with her.

When Talione opened the door he heard a tinkle deep in the rows of shelves behind the counter. "Hello?" The shop was tiny and the only furniture was a narrow wooden chair. The air was nearly solid with dust and magic and Talione shivered. The magic in the air whispered to his senses like Grimmauld Place, inaudible except for a faint impression of emotion. It was curious and friendly and _old._ "Has he been here the entire time?" Talione muttered, turning to look at the wand in the window again.

"The Ollivanders have made wands--"

"Yahh!" Talione almost jumped out of his skin and whirled around to see an old man standing behind him, watching him with misty silver eyes. They almost glowed in the dim shop.

"Since 32 b.c," Ollivander continued serenely, "But no, I'm not so old. Good morning. Please don't lean on the counter."

"Sorry."

Ollivander's eyes gazed past him to Bill and the Auror deep in conversation on the other side of the window, then those silver eyes turned back on Talione and Ollivander took another step closer, putting him almost nose to nose. Talione wished the ewizard would blink. "Hmmm…you are a little old to get your first wand here. What's your name?"

"Talione Riddle," he said. "I'm starting at Hogwarts at the end of the month."

"Hmm…I remember another Riddle who came in here…a long time ago," Mr. Ollivander said, his voice still soft. Talione didn't like the humming, or the pauses, or the feeling that something important was being held back from him. "Yew, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Powerful wand, that was." The back of Talione's neck prickled. He got the feeling Ollivander shook his head. "Let's see now…hold out your wand arm."

Talione held out his right arm. Ollivander pulled a tape measure with silver marks from his pocket and measured him from shoulder to finger, around his wrist, shoulder to elbow, floor to hair. While he did, he said, "There's a saying about wands: the wand chooses the wizard. No two Ollivander wands are alike, just as the creatures the cores come from are unalike. And you will get poorer results with another wizard's wand.."

Ollivander stepped back, but the measure continued measuring as he disappeared in the row of shelves and Talione heard him humming as he looked around for a particular wand. Ollivander reappeared a moment later with a couple boxes, put the boxes on the counter, and opened one and gave the wand to Talione. "Maple and dragon heartstring. Nine inches, whippy. Give it a wave!"

Feeling a bit silly Talione waved it and his fingers were nearly pulled away with the wand a moment later. "No, no, that isn't it, try this one." Ollivander gave him the second. "Willow and unicorn hair, eight inches, good for charms."

He tried it out, but it was taken too. Humming happily Ollivander returned to rummaging the shelves for more wands. A foot-long yew wand with unicorn hair failed. Two more maples and a rowan were deemed unsuitable. "I'm sorry, I seem to be a difficult customer," Talione said after the ninth wand.

"Not to worry, not to worry, the wand chooses the wizard, remember!" Ollivander said. He was absurdly happier as the wands stacked up. "We just have to find it. Try this one: holly and phoenix feather, nine inches."

Talione took it, but he didn't wave it. "You said you don't sell the same wand twice. This looks like Potter's."

Ollivander's eyebrows rose. "This wand is shorter and the feather comes from a different phoenix," he answered. "Go on, try it out!"

Talione shrugged and raised the wand over his head, then dropped his arm. It was like sticking his hand in an electric outlet; the wand went from cool to hot in his hand and a tongue of green and red fire burst from the end. Talione dropped it, flexing his fingers and looking for burns, but Ollivander cried, "Bravo!"

"It tried to burn me!" The wandmaker prodded the wand with his finger and when it didn't react he picked it up. He put it back in the box and sealed it with his own wand. "Will it do that every time I want to use it?"

"Oh, no, no, it won't do that again!" Ollivander assured him. "I never saw a wand do that before, but I guarantee it is safe. I would never sell you a dangerous wand!" He held out the box and Talione took it nervously. He kept the end pointed away.

The wand itself was six Galleons. A leather arm holster so he wouldn't have to keep his wand in his pockets was three of the silver coins. Money changed hands and Talione decided he'd be happy never to see the strange man and his shop again.


	12. Home At Last

(Disclaimer: Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I am flattering J.K Rowling. Everything in the six published books are hers, everything else is mine.)

I can't get a lock on Hagrid's accent. I did my best.

**Chapter 11: Home at Last**

The days until they returned to Hogwarts flew by.

In a frenzied attempt to finish catching up Talione returned to locking himself at different intervals in his room or one of the others in the house. It led to a bit of annoyance if someone else wanted to use the room, but mostly they left him alone and learned to ignore the random cursing.

Hermione was sent the Daily Prophet while she was at home so she didn't need to be filled in on much after she returned to Grimmauld Place. With Talione wandering in and out –and worse, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley or a friend like Lupin stopping by—it was difficult to tell her more than a few scraps at a time. And Harry was mulish about talking about Voldemort when he was mentioned; more worried that he'd slip up about the prophecy than concerned over the Dark Lord's muted activities.

His friends didn't know either about the stab of pain Harry felt in his scar when he was at Madame Malkin's. He wasn't going to fill them in. Without an accompanying emotion or vision from Voldemort, he didn't see anything to worry about. Just the same, he returned to trying to clear his mind before bed after that.

&&&&

"…up! Breakfast…thirty minutes!" Talione yawned and rolled over, too tired to hear more than the important stuff yelled. It still felt early; if breakfast was in thirty minutes then he wouldn't have to fight Jamie for the bathroom for another five. But the sunlight was bright on his eyelids, negating any thoughts he had for sleeping. He sighed in defeat and got out of bed, grabbed his towel, and stumbled off to the bathroom.

The door was shut and when he pressed his ear against the door he could hear a girl humming under the sound of rushing water inside. He banged on the door and growled, "ASHLEY! You'd better not use up the hot water!"

The humming stopped, and in the hallway behind him he heard, "Who's Ashley?"

"Duh! The brat hogging—" Talione turned around and saw a redhead girl in pajamas. He blinked, but his tongue kept running. "—the bathroom?" His brain rebooted and attached Ginny's name to her face again. Mortified, he forced a laugh. "Oops."

A mixture of amusement and pity came over Ginny's face, but she went back in her room without saying anything. In the bathroom, the water stopped, and Hermione came out shortly after in her bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a towel. "Who's Ashley?" she asked.

"Forget it." He went around her into the bathroom, not quite slamming the door in her face.

The start-of-school dash was more chaotic than he was used to. He used a checklist to pack his trunk the night before, so he wasn't missing anything, but the other four were still running around at the last minute looking for their stuff. Talione got to practice his summoning charms on Crookshanks' cat toys, socks, and school books—and when Hermione couldn't convince him to come out from under one of the sofas--Crookshanks himself, who clawed him for the humiliation.

There were a few accidents, like Ginny's "Monster book of Monsters" getting loose in her trunk and shredding one of her robes, and Mrs. Weasley clobbering Harry with a pair of hastily summoned boots. After that, Talione removed himself to the kitchen, where he recruited Mr. Weasley's help to attach wheels to his trunk and a strap to attach his backpack to it.

Moody showed up at a quarter to ten to take them to King's Cross. He was in a Muggle suit again, and he helped Hermione get Crookshanks down from the curtains in the library while the rest finished getting the trunks ready and in the Ministry car Moody brought. Even with the magically expanded interior, it was a snug fit for five trunks and their owners, a cat, two owls, two parents, and an Auror. By the time they arrived at King's Cross they were quite ready to get on the train.

The adults kept alert as the car was unloaded and they walked quickly to the platform, keeping the students in the center of their group as best they could. They received a little attention from the Muggles from their odd appearance, but they got to Platform 93/4 with little trouble, stopping only to be scanned by the Aurors standing on the other side.

The platform was crowded with students and their families, the Aurors, trunks, and pets, and the air was thick with voices, yowls, hoots, occasional whistles, and black smoke coming from the front of the scarlet train waiting on the track for them. Like Diagon Alley, there were some people huddled in small groups of families and friends, but there was only ten minutes left to board the train, so there was still a lot of ruckus as students talked and caught up on events between each other. Harry got a lot of stares as they pressed through the crowd towards the train. A few adults saw him and pulled their children a little away from him. Harry was trying to brush it off, but it clearly stung.

"Ignore them, they're gits," Ron hissed.

There were shouts of greetings to Harry and the other three from friends and members of the D.A, and other adults recognized Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, although they didn't stop to talk. Talione received a few curious looks and no more, which baffled the others. A few people called, "Hello, professor!" when they saw Moody, which annoyed him to no end. Katie from the Gryffindor Quidditch team stopped to ask if either of them was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. She didn't have the captain's badge either.

One of the students who stopped to say hello was one of Harry and Ron's roommates, Dean Thomas, and Ginny made her goodbyes and walked away with him to find a compartment. Growling threats, Ron started after her, but Hermione grabbed his arm. "We have to go to the prefects' carriage!"

"But I'm not a prefect anymore!" Ron protested as Hermione dragged him away.

The train's warning whistle sounded and Mrs. Weasley said urgently, "You'd better get on the train too, you two!" Harry nodded and Mr. Weasley used his wand to get their trunks on board. After a last farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Moody, Talione followed his trunk. He could hear Mrs. Weasley's last-minute advice to Harry: normal bits, like staying out of trouble—_'Does that ever work?'—_and remembering to write, which was more likely. They sounded like things his own mother would say, and it made Talione uncomfortable.

Talione did wave with Harry when the train started to move, watching the people on the platform shrink. Then the train went around a bend and the platform disappeared in a blur of houses. Harry turned and picked up an end of his trunk. "I'm going to find a compartment. Coming?" Talione nodded.

He expected Harry to levitate or shrink his trunk, but Harry just picked up one end and dragged it behind him. Talione copied him, wondering if magic was not allowed on the train, too. There was a lot he still didn't know.

Students stared openly at them from the compartments they passed, which gave Talione the creeps. Most seem awed of Harry, others, like a gaggle of younger students Harry said were first-years they crossed paths with in the corridor, seemed scared of them. When they were past Talione heard them start up frenzied whispers, but he couldn't hear what they said, other than Harry's name and what sounded like "Chosen One". Harry's ears and neck turned red and he walked faster.

Luckily, only a few handfuls of students were still roaming the carriages; most of them seemed to be younger students Harry didn't know, but he did know a pompous boy already wearing his school robes with a badger over the heart and a "P" badge pinned next to it. Harry exchanged greetings with him, picking up the pace a little. "Ernie Macmillan," Harry said when they were out of earshot. "He's a prefect. There are two each from the fifth and six years for each of the houses. I can't wait to see who replaced Ron."

Talione saw a girl with her nose pressed to the window of her compartment, and deliberately banged his elbow against it when he passed. She looked startled and stuck her tongue out at him. "I'd rather see someone who isn't staring at us," he said. "Or an empty compartment." Talione shifted to his other arm to pull his trunk. It was still heavy even with the wheels added. He couldn't see how Harry was able to drag his. "We must be near the end of the train by now."

"I saw Neville and Luna board down here, we could sit with them."

"Harry!"

Harry turned and Talione did too to see who called. A round-faced boy with brown hair and a wide smile was standing in the hall behind them. Unlike him and Harry, he was wearing wizard robes. "Hi, Neville."

"Speak of the devil," Talione muttered. Harry gave him a dirty look.

"There's still room in here if you'd like to join us."

"Who's us?" Harry asked.

"Me, Luna and Trevor," said Neville.

Two blonde girls poked their heads out of their compartment farther back, near the door. One giggled and nudged her friend, who turned her head and gestured to the first, and went back inside.

Harry didn't see them. "Sure." He maneuvered his trunk around and glanced at Talione. "Coming?" More friends of Harry's, but Talione didn't know anyone else, or if the rest of the compartments had a place for him to sit. He nodded, and Neville beamed.

Luna turned out to be a blonde girl with large eyes. Her head was bowed over a newspaper and her wand stuck behind her left ear. She was already wearing a copy of the Hogwarts uniforms in Talione's trunk. "'lo, Luna," said Harry. He put his trunk on the shelf above the seat. Talione's trunk went up next, after he removed his backpack. Harry sat down across from Luna, and put Hedwig's cage beside him, leaving Talione the side next to the window. The owl was still asleep.

Luna looked up from her paper. "Hi, Harry. Who's your friend?" she asked.

"I'm Talione Riddle, Luna…?"

"Luna Lovegood," she said. Talione held out his hand to shake, but Luna merely looked curiously at it, like it was a foreign appliance she didn't know how to use. Talione dropped his hand, shrugged, and took what was left of the seat next to Harry. In her cage, Hedwig shifted and moved the wing covering her face. She looked sleepily around the compartment and hooted.

"Neville Longbottom," Neville said. He was staring at Talione. "I'm in sixth-year with Harry. Gryffindor."

"I'm in Ravenclaw," said Luna. She smiled serenely and sang off-key, _"For Ravenclaw, the cleverest, would always be the best."_

Talione was unsure what to say to that. Luna seemed quite dotty, but at the same time it was a little charming. She reminded him of one of the seventh-years, Katelyn, who was a year older than him. She liked music, and she would start humming at random times; it drove her friends nuts.

"So…how's the quibbler doing?" Harry asked her.

"Daddy's paper is going very well. We still have most of the subscriptions we got when you gave us your story last year." _The Quibbler _was a newspaper; capital Q, then.Talione made a note to take a look at it. The _Daily Prophet _was informative, but one-sided.

"How was your summer?" Neville asked Harry.

Harry smiled. "Quiet. No Dursleys, or weird things attacking me, or nightmares from You-Know-Who," he said. "Did your plant grow any bigger over the summer?"

Neville brightened. "It grew another foot! I had to plant it in the garden at home; it was too big to take with me." He pulled a wand out of a left pocket and held it in his lap. "My grandmother got me this, too! Ollivander said it was about time I got my own wand. "

"How did she take you battling Death Eaters?"

"She was proud of me!" Neville's smile couldn't get any bigger without splitting his face in half. "Even my father didn't fight Death Eaters when he was my age." His face darkened a little at that. "Are you continuing the D.A. this year?" he asked.

"I liked that," said Luna. "It was like having friends."

Talione glanced at Harry and Neville. They looked very uncomfortable. Harry said, "I might not get the time with NEWT studies starting this year. I might run the D.A, if the professor is horrible this year, too."

Luna wasn't embarrassed at all. "Everyone thinks I'm loony," she explained to Talione. She folded her paper and dropped it on the seat. "I don't mind. Are you wearing contacts?"

"No, my eyes were made that way," Talione said. "Mom said it was so she could tell me and Jamie apart." His hair was longer, too, but that was a recent difference. Until they were twelve they had shared the same short length. He tried to laugh, as the comment used to make him do, but he didn't really feel like laughing and stopped after a few seconds. Luna's big eyes were fixed on him, but they didn't share the pity in Harry's.

Talione turned to watch the hills and houses fly by the train.

'_This is stupid. At Eldraeli I was away from home for months at a time.' _he thought. He didn't know why he was so homesick lately. _'I should be used to it by now.' _

A couple minutes later, Neville asked Harry a question about a plant Talione didn't recognize. The two boys started tossing questions and answers back and forth, and Talione let the noise wash over him, not really listening. If he tried hard enough, he could make himself believe it was Aram trying to convince Casey that football was better than Quidditch, or Jamie planning a stunt and working out the details with his girlfriend. Two days before Eldraeli was attacked, the two of them had charmed the Rattlesnakes' benches so their robes turned lavender halfway through breakfast.

After awhile the voices ran together, and then he didn't hear anything for awhile.

&&&&&&&&&&&

"…my head," Harry was whispering. "Nothing."

The window was cold against his cheek. A yawn forced Talione's mouth open. "What about your head?"

There was a hesitation. "Headache," heard Talione. "It's nothing I can't handle." Talione got the feeling he was being lied to, but he was getting tired of second-guessing everything and decided to take the reply as it was.

Talione forced his eyes open. His neck was stiff from sleeping against the window and his back wasn't much better for the angle. While he was asleep the train had traveled into a rainstorm and now the only light came from in the corridor and a small overhead light in the ceiling. Talione sat up, stretched, and started when he saw the floor, littered in opened wrappers and unopened packages of small pastries and sweets he saw last in Diagon Alley. "When did the candy store stop by and barf on the floor?" he asked.

"The snack trolley came by an hour ago," Harry said. "I got you some Cauldron cakes in case you were hungry. If you want anything else, feel free." Talione glanced at Neville and Luna to see what they had; Luna was asleep, but he saw the two dark brown frog legs sticking out of Neville's mouth. Talione felt ill. It reminded him of the time he tried real frog's legs; they hadn't agreed with him at all.

"How long was I out?" Talione asked. He hadn't been tired beforehand but somehow he had missed two hours. It was exactly two o'clock, according to Luna's watch; his own watch froze when they passed onto Platform 9 3/4. "Thanks for the cakes, but I think I'll save them. I packed some food," he said. He picked up his backpack and flipped the top back. His bag lunch was on top, quite squashed.

Neville leaned forward and peered interestedly at his bag. "Is there a cat in there?"

"What?" Talione asked. He pulled the food bag out and Neville pointed to the pair of pointed black and white ears sticking out from the backpack. Talione chuckled. "That's Loki."

"What's a Loki?" Neville asked.

"My fox." He reached into the pack, found the creature's neck and pulled a little. An intelligent, pointed face of bright orange popped out of the backpack, staring at Neville with its plastic brown eyes. Another tug and the entire fox came free. "He was guarding my stuff." Neville still looked curious, so he added, "Nothing major; some money, my papers, a book. And some clothes in case my luggage vanished."

"Why would it disappear?" Harry asked. "We're on a train."

"I can't be too careful," Talione said. He reached into his bag again and pulled out the book Loki was sitting on. "In the last four years, my luggage got lost on the way to school three times, and I spent the first two weeks of my fourth year sharing my brother's clothes until my stuff got mailed to me." Talione returned Loki to his backpack and opened his lunch. One ham sandwich was still edible and the other was squished beyond recognition. He ate it anyway, and Scourgified the empty bag and candy wrappers. "What happens when we get to Hogwarts?"

Neville smiled. "The older students are going in the carriages around the lake, and the first years get to ride _across _it in boats."

Talione looked again out the window. The storm, if possible, had gotten harder. Now lightning had joined the party in the clouds. "You _can't _be serious! They'd drown!"

"We are. There was a similar storm a couple years ago and the first-years got through that, too," Harry said, looking amused, "Although Dennis Creevy fell in the lake first."

Talione pulled a Chocolate Frog towards him with his foot, picked it up, and unwrapped it, half-expecting the frog to hop away. He hadn't tried one before, but the rate Ron kept eating them had to mean they were good. When the frog didn't move, he bit the head off so it couldn't change its mind. Talione was startled when he looked at the card that came with it and saw Harry glowering up at him with his arms folded over school robes.

"Who'd you get?" Neville asked.

"Harry. I didn't know they made you a card."

Harry looked resigned instead of embarrassed by it. "I've been there for awhile. I'm famous, remember?"

"Duh." Talione flipped it over. "Why did they switch from The Boy-Who-Lived to the Chosen One?" he asked Harry. Harry leaned forward and grabbed the card. "Hey!" His face grim, Harry stood up and opened the window; rain promptly got in and splattered on their faces. Harry flung the card out the window and slammed it shut. "I could've started a new collection with that."

"Pick a different one."

"That was a perfectly good one!" Talione argued.

Harry didn't apologize, or reply to any of Talione's grumblings, so eventually he quit, picked up his book, and tried to read. Considering where he was and how he got there, _"The Time Machine" _seemed to mock him. It was too bad he left his comics at home.

Ron and Hermione joined them at two-thirty--without their trunks, Talione noticed. He didn't comment; it was their business if they wanted to leave their stuff unguarded. Harry gave his seat to Hermione and joined Ron on the floor, working on the rest of the snacks with Neville's help.

Neville and Harry were gleeful when Ron told him "the ferret" lost his Prefect's badge. Talione put his book back in his bag—Loki received some amused snickers—to listen to the conversation when the topic rolled around to the other transfer students. "There's two of them," Hermione told them, "Sisters. Their parents are English, so the language won't be a problem. They're from Durmstrang."

_"Urghann?"_ said Ron around a cake, looking upset, or angry. It would have been easier to tell his tone with his mouth empty. "Thathwikneedoth--"

"I think it was, "Like we need more…" Talione said. "Ugh, Ron, _chew _first! Even Jamie doesn't speak with his mouth full!"

"More Dark wizards," Ron said after he cleared his mouth.

"They aren't dark just because they came from Durmstrang," Hermione said indignantly. "The ones that came for the Triwizard Tournament weren't evil." Ron's hands clenched in his lap, but he didn't continue to provoke Hermione.

For once, Talione knew what was being discussed. The tournament was a major event in the wizard world; the _Eagle _had run ten pages previous to the first task discussing everything about it, and the first and second tasks got three pages each. The third task got seven; it ran a week late and the paper had added Harry and Dumbledore's story of Voldemort's return. That Carlos Mayhew was murdered two days after the third task only made the information stick better.

"I agree; only the judges were rotten," he said. They all looked surprised. "Oh, c'mon, I can't be in the dark about everything! _Some _of your messes get reported at home!"

"_Messes_?" Harry repeated. His expression was disbelieving.

"Okay, bad choice of words. But Sirius Black _did _escape from Hogwarts just hours after his capture, and the Ministry set up the tournament _knowing _students have been killed, and then there was Voldemort's return at the end of the tournament--"

"You think that happened on _purpose?" _Harry shouted, jumping to his feet. Talione winced. The compartment was too small for yelling.

"Harry, give him a break," Hermione started.

But Talione was in the mood for a fight, not a break. He'd kept his anger down most of the summer, knowing he was a guest and had to respect his hosts, and now he wanted to let it out. "Of course I do! That murderer may have escaped Azkaban, but he's not Harry Houdini! He couldn't have escaped chains and a locked room--especially if Hogwarts is as strong as the books say it is—without help!"

_"Sirius was not a—"_

"Harry, shut up!" Ron said at a quieter volume. "No one told him the truth."

"Yeah, they didn't,"said Talione bitterly. No one would tell him anything of real importance except by accident. Like why Hagrid was suspicious of him. Or why Ginny had been so upset and her mother seemed so shocked, and then angry at Dumbledore after Talione was brought to the Black house. "Why would you tell a _Riddle _anything except to stay away from your sister, Ron?" Ron's eyes widened and Hermione's mouth hung open as she stared at Ron in disbelief.

Talione grabbed his backpack, stood up and stepped over Ron and Harry. "I'll be back for my trunk later," he told them as he slid the door back. It slammed behind him as he exited. Inside, he could already hear Hermione berating Ron for his callousness. It would have been more satisfactory to drop that bomb when Ginny was around as well, but he felt bad for making Neville and Luna hear it.

A pair of second-year girls had a compartment all to themselves, all Talione had to do in return for joining them was play three games of Exploding snap; he agreed to the terms. It was more fun with three players than two. They left him alone to read his book afterwards, whispering back and forth about their families and what they did over the summer.

The rain let up by the time Ernie Macmillan came around to tell them to get changed into their robes. Talione was told to leave his luggage on the train, but wasn't surprised when Ernie mentioned he had to change into his old uniform before the train got to Hogsmeade in the next hour; Dumbledore had told him the transferring students were supposed to wear their old uniforms for the Sorting. Talione would start wearing the Hogwarts uniform tomorrow, when classes began.

He left the compartment so the girls could change first, then switched. One of them giggled when he let them back in and they saw the clothes he had pulled out of his backpack. Unlike the traditional style of the Hogwarts robes, Eldraeli's uniform consisted of a long-sleeved dark green shirt and black pants; where the girls had eagles, Talione had Eldraeli's yellow and orange phoenix holding a wand and a sword in its talons.

Now there was nothing else but to wait for the train to arrive.

It wasn't a long wait, and the conductor heralded their arrival to the station with a whistle blast. The corridor was packed in seconds as students made their way off the train. Talione saw two flashes of deep, blood red, darker than the Aurors' robes in the black crowd.

There was a small row of brighter red robes on the other side of the crowd, facing away from the crowd. Alternating with them was three more Aurors—Talione wasn't too surprised to see Kingsley and Tonks—and several people that had to be teachers. One was the greasy-haired man that had accompanied Talione, Tonks, and Dumbledore from the airport. Snape, he thought it was, although Talione hadn't seen the man from then until now. McGonagall was also there, near the car he exited.

When it looked like everyone was off the train, Hagrid roared, "FIRS YEARS!" The rest of the crowd was headed to a long row of carriages drawn by some sort of dragon-horse that Talione wasn't close enough to see. He didn't know which place to go; with the students his age, or the ones just starting at Hogwarts?

His confusion was cleared up when he noticed two girls wearing the crimson robes standing next to Hagrid. One was matched in height by the tallest first-year, but the second was only a little shorter than Talione. They could have been twins if not for their obvious height and age difference; they had the same round face and button noses, but the older girl's black hair was pulled back in a tight bun and the younger's hair was curly.

"There yeh are!" Hagrid said when Talione joined them. "Was afraid yeh might o' followed ev'ryone t' the carriages."

Talione shook his head. Everyone was staring at him. "Almost."

The last stragglers were getting into a carriage as Hagrid led the group away from the platform. Talione let himself fall to the back, counting the first-years. There were 29; 14 girls and 15 boys. Spread evenly across the four houses, the number seemed a little pitiful. Harry had said before that he shared the room with Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus. Talione wondered if the Sorting was unbalanced, or if there were children being kept at home for safety.

They came out of the trees and onto the edge of a large lake. Talione heard several gasps, and one that was maybe his when he looked up from the fleet of boats waiting at the edge of the water to the castle beyond the lake. Hogwarts was a lot bigger than he imagined. That it was all lit up and the outline couldn't be seen against the dark clouds made it even more impressive. "Beaut, ain't she?" Hagrid said, grinning at their amazement.

"Yes," said a bored voice in the middle. "And if we're all done gawking, I want to go in."

Hagrid lost the grin and nodded. "All righ', ev'ryone int' the boats!" he boomed. "No more than four t' a boat!" They split up. One by one Hagrid pushed the boats off and they floated out, gathering in a small group a few yards out. Talione was sitting with both of the Durmstrang girls and a first-year, and it was a crowded fit. Somehow, though, their boat remained the same height above the water as the ones with less weight. Hagrid had a boat to himself.

Right away, a couple youngsters shouted at Hagrid that they had no oars. "'Course not!" Hagrid said back. "They're magic!"

They floated for a few moments longer before the boats started turning themselves, pointing lantern-first at the castle, and started to move. The younger boy fidgeted and tried to look over the side to see how the boat was moving. "Be careful," warned the older girl. "Don't fall out."

The trouble came when they passed the lake's halfway point. A large pink tentacle rose out of the water like a serpent's, curling towards them. Two more came after it, curling, then slapping down into the water again, rocking the boats with small waves. There were some shrieks as the first tentacle slapped the water again. Hagrid called over the noise, "Squid's only greetin' ya! 'S safe!"

"Wicked!" cried the first-year. He leaned over, trying to see the tentacles under the water, but he went too far and the boat swayed and the right side dropped almost even to the water under his weight.

"No!"

"Sit down!"

The boat flipped, dumping them into the water.

The cold soaked to Talione's skin in a second and almost immediately another boat hit him in the head, pushing him farther under. His clothes were dead weight and dragged him down. _'Just my luck to drown before school even starts.' _ His lungs burned and he couldn't tell which way was up, the water was too dark.

Something that felt like a steel cable wrapped around his waist and chest, squeezing the rest of the air out of his lungs, and in his shock he did inhale, and found himself lying in the bottom of the boat he'd left, vomiting water over the side. "'Yeh all righ'?" asked Hagrid, drifting alongside.

"I'll be fine," Talione croaked.

The others had returned to the boat before him and the boy who'd flipped it gave him a guilty look. "I just wanted to see the squid," he muttered. "I didn't think the boat would turn, they're charmed, aren't they?"

"Magic doesn't prevent all accidents!" Talione said angrily. "You're supposed to sit still in one of these!"

The other boats were a ways ahead of them, and Talione could see some curious faces staring back at them when he was seated again. The older girl pulled out her wand and pointed it at herself. _"Sicco insolo," _she said. The water in her hair and clothes evaporated and with another charm the wrinkles vanished from her robes.

She repeated the Drying charm for the two others, but Talione waved away the help. He closed his eyes and concentrated. It was a spell he had done before. He pictured sunlight on his clothes, and then an image of himself with the clothes dry. In seconds, steam rose from his uniform, leaving it wrinkled, but dry.

The boy and younger sister were staring at him in amazement. The older girl raised an eyebrow. "Your hair's still wet, showoff." A flick of her wand, and the wrinkles and water disappeared.

"Thanks…whatever your name is," he said.

She frowned. "It's Sarah. That's Laura," she said, gesturing to her sister. "We're from Durmstrang."

The boy pulled out his own wand, looking like he wanted to try the spell, but Talione grabbed the end. "_No! _Wait until tomorrow. You already made enough trouble." All three wands returned to their owners pockets. "One of the prefects told me," Talione added, turning back to Sarah. "I'm Talione."

"Ian," the boy, not to be left out.

The other boats reached land and Hagrid and their group soon joined them. Hagrid led them away from the boats up a path and into the castle. McGonagall was waiting for them at a pair of large wooden doors, holding a scroll and looking stern. Talione's heart was thudding in his chest. He could hear the noise behind the doors; it had to be the Great Hall he was told about, and ss soon as he walked through those doors, all hope that this was a mistake or a nightmare would vanish and he'd be truly stuck at Hogwarts.

Talione slowed his breathing and put a familiar mask of calm on his face to hide his nervousness. Around him, the other students looked as apprehensive as he felt. McGonagall waited for them the whispers to quiet down.

"As some of you already know, the start-of-term banquet is about to begin. Before you eat, however, we must sort you into your respective Houses. More than likely some of your siblings will have told you about battling a troll, or a dragon, or Albus Dumbledore," she said calmly. There were a few nervous titters and she cracked a smile. "That isn't true. What will decide your places is the Sorting Hat. It will sort you into Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin." There was a faint distaste in her voice on the last name. "Now, follow me, please."

The doors swung inward on an unknown cue. McGonagall turned and started into the room. Talione and the other two transfer students ended up at the back of the group as they walked in. Whispers abounded in the hall as they went up the wide aisle between the two center tables. They stopped in front of the stool with that hat on it at the top of the hall, facing Dumbledore and the other teachers.

Everyone's attention was on the battered, black hat sitting on the stool, so intently that when a rip appeared on the hat's brim and it started singing, five of the group jumped and two had their wands out in a second. They put them away when McGonagall gave them a stern look, embarrassed at their trigger reaction. Privately, Talione was impressed.

The hat sang about the four houses, Slytherin's departure, and the need for unification within Hogwarts, which Talione thought did not bode well for his stay there. When it fell silent again, McGonagall held up her scroll and unrolled it. "When I call your name, come up and put on the Sorting Hat.

"Ainsbury, Rebecca!" One of the girls pushed her way through the group and walked to the stool. The hat fell over her eyes.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" roared the hat a moment later, and her table cheered as she joined them.

"Aizlewood, Anna!"

The hat was on her head for almost a minute before the hat made up its mind and sent her to "RAVENCLAW!"

"Allen, John" and "Bailey, Nicolas" both became Gryffindors, but the next one, a boy named Barstow, Daniel" became the first Slytherin, and the table under the snake banner had its turn to cheer a new arrival. Talione glanced over the table, and saw a boy with odd silver-white hair sitting with an unpleasant-looking girl. The couple were sandwiched between a pair of large boys who probably had troll blood in their veins. Talione didn't know any of them, but the pointed face and silver hair of the first boy was giving him déjà vu.

"She must be joking!" hissed Sarah.

Talione came out of his thoughts, and looked at her. "What?"

"McGonagall's making us go after the first-years," her sister complaine. "We're going to be stared at until the end."

Talione frowned as he heard "Douglas, Richard" called. "At least you get to go before me."

They waited as the rest of the first-years tried on the hat and went to their tables. The last was a girl named "Zachary, Julie" who was sorted into Slytherin. In the end, the Serpent House only had five students compared to Gryffindor's eight, Ravenclaw's seven, and Hufflepuff's nine. It was a rather pitiful-looking group at the end of Slytherin's table.

Julie sat down and McGonagall glanced at Dumbledore. Talione half-expected the headmaster to stand up and give a lengthy speech about the three of them, where they came from, and what it probably meant to the school for them to be there. Instead, he gave McGonagall a tiny nod and she called Laura's name.

Talione held his breath as Laura sat down on the stool and put on the hat. What if they were too old to be Sorted? Would they be sent back home?

The deliberation was too long for him to hold his breath through it. Laura's hands clenched in her lap and she fidgeted and murmured under the hat. Finally, the hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!" Laura pulled the hat off and set it back on the stool. She was shaking as she walked to her table.

"Crowe, Sarah!"

Sarah's calm expression faltered a moment when her name was called but she walked forward with her head held high. _'Laura's only a second year,' _Talione thought suddenly. _'She squeaked through but what if we can't?'_

But Sarah became joined her sister in Ravenclaw. She was led by one of the other older students to sit with a knot of people who greeted her warmly.

Now McGonagall called Talione's name and he stepped forward, relieved to finally put the hat on and blot out the hall.

"Well," said a small, high voice in his ear."You are an interesting one."

_'Hello to you, too.'_

"I like variety, but you've already formed acquaintances and opinions."There was a frown in the voice."This would be more fun if you hadn't…"The hat trailed off."Where should I put you? You like knowledge, and have plenty of ambition…Slytherin, maybe?"

_'You're looking in my _head _I thought you just conversed with everyone!' _

"Relax. I won't share your secrets—what is this?"The Sorting Hat sounded shocked. "Y-you…your headmaster!"

_'How am I supposed to _relax_ with you poking through everything in there?' _Talione could guess what he was looking at, and knew why Laura was fidgeting. He couldn't tell what else the hat was looking at, though. It was extremely creepy and he wanted it off NOW!

"Relax,"it repeated. "I have to look at everything, I'm afraid, to make a fair decision."

Talione tried to calm down again. _"Just don't tell.'_

"I promise. Hmm…you have a quick mind, --maybe Ravenclaw. No. You're too showy, too impatient, you'd rub them wrong. There's talent here too…my, my…you're a fighter. You'd go far in Gryffindor…What's this?"

It was not something someone wanted to hear from a telepathic hat. There was a pause, and then the hat said, "I'm sorry you couldn't be here under better circumstance, Mr. Riddle. I wish you luck in…SLYTHERIN!"

Talione removed the hat and stood. When he turned to give it to McGongall, he saw the strangest mixture of emotions on her face; he thought it might be dismay and surprise, but he wasn't sure. He walked towards the table and the students cheering him under the serpent banner.

(A/N: I am well aware of how long it has taken me simply to get to this point. This is still a work in progress; I continue to write because I enjoy it.)


	13. Into the Viper's Nest

(Disclaimer: Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I am flattering J.K Rowling. Everything in the six published books are hers, everything else is mine.)

**Chapter 12: Into the Viper's Nest**

Harry watched Talione follow Pansy Parkinson up the table to Malfoy's group. "I told you!" Ron was muttering. "_Slytherin!_ I knew it!" It was a distinct change from his complaints about how Dumbledore should hurry up and let them eat. "You'd think after all we said, he'd know better!"

"Ron, he was usually studying in his room when we talked about them," Hermione whispered, after making sure no one was listening. "And Harry said he was sleeping when he talked to Neville."

"It's too coincidental…" Ron growled.

"Actually…he knows about Malfoy," Harry said quietly, "Talione overheard Ron comparing him to Malfoy the night I arrived, and asked me about him."

"What did you say?" asked Hermione.

"I said he was an enemy in our year," Harry said. "I forgot to tell Talione what he looked like; look, he's sitting right next to him!"

At the staff table, Dumbledore rose and tapped his glass. The talk and laughter around the hall died away. He spread his arms in a welcoming gesture and smiled.

"I wish you all a pleasant evening!" he said grandly. "To our new students, welcome, to our older students, welcome back to the halls of Hogwarts! I know you are all tired and hungry, so I will save the speechmaking for later. Tuck in!"

Dumbledore sat down, and the five tables groaned as platters and bowls brimming with food and jugs of pumpkin juice appeared on them. The noise increased tremendously as students started talking again. The conspicuously missing Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was the main topic of conversation.

While Harry filled his plate he listened to Seamus Finnigan a few places down the table, who wasted no time in throwing out theories of who the professor was and why they weren't there. The professor was a Death Eater, they were threatened by Death Eaters, or in St. Mungo's…the idea that Fudge might throw another "Liaison" at them was quickly booed. The scars from Harry's encounter with Umbridge's blood quill were still visible on the back of his hand.

"The Ministry wouldn't do that," Hermione said impatiently. "Not after the fiasco with Umbridge last year. They can't afford anymore embarrassing publicity."

It was too much fun to guess, as long as someone else still had one, but when Neville suggested that Dumbledore wanted Harry to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, he vehemently shot the idea down. "The D.A. was for practice! I don't know enough about the other stuff to teach it!"

"Could be an Auror," Ginny said. "I mean, everyone saw the group at the station. Since they're here, they might as well teach us, too."

"If it's Tonks, she'd blow up the classroom," Ron sniggered. Tonks was cool but her clumsiness was a definite liability. "I just want someone besides Snape, so I can see his rotten face when he sees that he didn't get the job again."

Harry pointed to the head table, where Snape watched the noisy Gryffindors with a deep scowl. "If he got the job, Ron, he'd look happier."

Across the hall, several Slytherins looked over at the Gryffindor table to see what the noise was about. Talione was one of them; he saw Harry watching him and looked away. Hermione saw Harry staring across the hall. "There's nothing we can do about it tonight," she whispered. "We can talk to him later."

Harry returned his attention to the conversation around him. She was right, as usual. They could do nothing tonight except hope Talione would keep their secrets until they could meet again.

&&&&&

Talione could still feel Harry's eyes on him as he ate. He didn't know why Harry looked so disappointed. Did he really think Talione was going to follow them into Gryffindor? He wasn't going to hang around them forever. He had his own life to live.

The pre-Sorting adrenaline was wearing off, and Talione's head was buzzing from the chatter and the magic around him. He had to remember to ask Dumbledore later for a dampening spell of some sort.

The other sixth-years the girl had brought him to sit with were considerate enough to leave him alone, and Talione entertained himself with watching the other tables. When he scanned the professors' table, he was surprised to see another familiar face besides McGonagall, Hagrid, and Dumbledore. It was the greasy-haired, sallow-faced man who was with Dumbledore and Tonks when picked Talione up at the airport. He was scowling at the Gryffindors.

"Who's the professor with too much hair-gel?" he asked, pointing.

The pale, blond boy with gray eyes sitting beside him smirked. "Professor Snape. He's our Head of House," the boy said. "He's a git, but he's fairer with us than the other professors. Just don't cross him."

Professor Snape turned his eyes on his house, and Talione thought his ugly expression darkened further when he looked at the sixth-years. "Real friendly-looking, isn't he…" Talione muttered. "What does he teach?"

"Potions. The good thing is, he only lets people with half a brain in his advanced classes. Just getting in means you'll do all right. At least this year we won't be stuck with all of the Gryffindors. I bet only Granger got an O on the O.W.L."

It took a moment to realize he meant Hermione. The odd way the students used variations of each other's last and first names was annoying. Talione shrugged. As far as he knew the pale boy was right. "Herm--Granger's smart, but I think she relies too much on what she reads."

The dishes of food disappeared along the table, and more appeared, all desserts.

"What do you think of Potter and the Weasleys?" the boy asked. His tone was casual, but his eyes were narrowed. "I saw you standing with them and that Auror, Moody, at the station."

Talione frowned. The conversation was edging into dangerous territory. "My family couldn't see me off, Mr. Nosy," he said. "Dumbledore asked them to take me to the station, or I probably couldn't've come." Talione grimaced, remembering his last words to Harry and Ron on the train. Before he came to England, he used to have a better handle on his anger. "Ginny's okay, but Ron is one of the rudest people I know. I haven't decided about Potter yet; he can be nice, but he's got a temper."

The gray-eyed boy laughed. "Yeah, you're right. But Potter's a pet of Dumbledore's, so he gets away with a lot of stuff here," he said. "No one in Slytherin likes him."

Talione relaxed. He seemed to have passed some sort of test, although he felt a little guilty that it was bashing Harry that did it, and suddenly noticed the other sixth-years were silent, watching them, and had been for awhile.

"Then again, the rest of Hogwarts hates us. Don't let them fool you. Slytherin is the best House by far!" the boy went on. "I think you'll find most of our members are like-minded when it comes down to it. You heard how the hat spoke about our ambition—we like to win. We want to win the Quidditch and House Cups this year. Do you play Quidditch?"

"I used to play with friends, but I didn't have the time to play on a team," Talione replied. "And anyways, I don't have a broomstick. Casey crashed it in March."

"How…unfortunate... If someone will lend you their broomstick, tryouts are next Saturday." the boy said. "I'm team captain this year," he added, a look of smug pride crossing his face.

"What positions are open?" Talione asked, looking away to watch the two trolls across the table. They had already devoured half a gateau between them.

"Two Chasers and Seeker," Draco said. "I was the Seeker for the last four years, but I'm changing to Keeper this year."

Talione remembered what he said to Harry before about the Captain's position. "It's a good position as captain. The Keeper's the only real stationary player, so you can see the whole field."

Draco nodded. "Exactly. Besides, Potter's Gryffindor's Seeker, and he already knows how to beat me. We need someone new."

"I'll keep it in mind," Talione said. "I heard the sixth-years start studying for N.E.W.Ts. I'd like to see what the homework load is looks like first."

"Suit yourself."

Talione picked at a cupcake. He didn't really have room for it, but it gave him something to do until the food disappeared and Dumbledore stood and called for everyone's attention again. He was going to make the speech he put off before dinner.

The hall fell silent almost immediately. Dumbledore smiled and spread his arms as if to encompass the whole hall. "The best of evenings to you all," he said grandly. "First, to our new students, welcome! To the rest of you, a warm welcome back for another year of magical education. Now, as all of our older students know, there are some announcements to be dispensed before you go to your beds.

"Our caretaker, Mr. Filch has added a blanket ban of all joke items from the shop Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes to the list of forbidden items. The full list is in his office for any of you who wish to read it. The products, as all of the items, will be confiscated on sight."

The black boy across the table snorted. "As if they can get them all," he muttered.

"…to play for their House Quidditch teams can give their names to their Head of House. There is also an opening for Quidditch commentator, and applicants should do likewise," Dumbledore continued.

"I must remind you again that the Forbidden Forest is off limits to _all_ students unless accompanied by a member of the staff. If you value your life, please heed my warning. The very least of the inhabitants are a resident herd of centaurs. They are not fond of wizards and will attack even students found in their territory."

The headmaster gave a pointed look to the Gryffindor table, and there were snickers around Talione. Talione thought Dumbledore was thinking of the Umbridge person he heard about. Then Dumbledore's expression turned grave, and Talione felt a shiver of alarm run through him.

"Magic is forbidden in the hallways between classes and the consequences for breaking the rule will be harsher than in previous years," Dumbledore said. "And the professors will not be the only ones on the look out for such activities. We are hosting a group of Aurors, and should they catch anyone fighting, they will report it. In the event of an emergency, you will heed them as you would myself or another staff member.

"The Aurors are only one of the additional security measures undertaken this summer. The castle's fortifications have been strengthened as well, in numerous ways. However…"

Beside him, the pale boy was making his fork hover and spin in the air. What Dumbledore said wasn't worthy of his attention.

"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is. Should you notice anything strange or suspicious, inside or outside of the castle, please report it to one of us _immediately._ And I urge each of you, no matter how irksome they are, to obey the restrictions the Aurors and the staff might place on you for your safety.

"This includes especially the school rule of being out of bed after hours. For the new faces amongst us, students are not to be outside of their common rooms past nine o'clock in the evening unless accompanied by a Prefect or a professor," Dumbledore said. He swept the room with a stern look, and then smiled. "Now, your beds await, and I will not keep you any longer from them. I bid you all good night."

The Great Hall got louder as the benches were pushed back. Students got up to leave and around the hall prefects called the first-year students to follow them. Talione moved to join the Slytherin prefects, but the pale boy grabbed his arm. "You don't need to walk with the first-years," he said. "I know some shortcuts to our common room. Follow me."

He strode towards the doors of the Great Hall. After a pause, Talione followed him; the girl, black boy, and two trolls came after him. As they walked, the pale boy made introductions, walking backwards with an air of confident familiarity in where he was going. Talione waited for him to walk into something. "The two lunks back there are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle," he said, pointing. Goyle was the taller one who sat in front of Talione at dinner. "She's Pansy Parkinson, and he's Blaise Zabini. I'm Draco Malfoy."

Startled, Talione stopped in his tracks, recalling with some alarm what Harry said about Draco a month and a half ago; _"An enemy at school in our year."_ The son of a known Death Eater, no less. Yet Talione was walking in the middle of a strange hallway in front of said enemy, now having doubts about the others around him as well.

"Is something wrong?" Draco asked, staring hard at him.

He shook his head. "My head hurts, is all. The magic around here's weird," he said. His headache was still present, but the farther they got from the Great Hall, the smaller it grew. Obviously, the magic in Hogwarts was stronger in some places that others. _'If Hermione knew so much about the Crowes before they were Sorted, does Draco know anything about me?' _he asked himself. _'I am so dead if he does!'_

Draco turned so he was walking forwards again, and slowed his pace until Talione was beside him. The corridors they were passing through were damper than the ones they left near the Great Hall. "We're all sixth-years, like you," he told Talione. "You'll be sharing a dormitory with us and Theodore Nott. Nott doesn't hang around with us much."

After a few more turns, the group stopped in front of a blank stone wall. "The password is _Wolfsbane_," Draco said. With a grating sound, a door concealed in the wall slid back to let them in. "It changes once a week," he told Talione. "Ask a prefect for it."

Walking into the common room was like walking into an emerald. Nearly everything was green, and if it wasn't, it was brown wood or colored silver. A few people had beaten them there and were talking softly in the high-backed chairs near the fire. A couple looked up, peering curiously at Talione, and he gave them a polite nod. Across the common room were two dim passages; one split off to the right, the other to the left. Draco pointed down the right, and said, "That's the girl's wing. Boys aren't allowed down there unless invited. "Our room's to the left." He motioned to the other four to stay put and started down the corridor.

They passed a door with an 'I' on it, followed by a bathroom, room 'II', another bathroom, room 'III' and the third bathroom, and then 'IV' and 'V'. Draco stopped in front of the second-to-last door, VI. "This is us," he said.

Inside were six four-poster beds arranged in a circle and covered with green quilts and darker drapery trimmed with more silver. A narrow wardrobe and a nightstand stood on either side of each bed. Draco pointed out which beds belonged to him, Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, and Nott. Talione's trunk was at the foot of the bed sandwiched between the door and Nott's bed. There were no windows in the room, something Talione had in his old dormitory. He missed them already.

"How did my trunk get here?" he asked.

"House-elf magic. Nobody knows how they know where we are," Draco said in explanation. "I'm going back to the common room. If you want, you can come join us when you're settled."

He would have liked nothing better than to go to bed, and wake up three months earlier, before any of his troubles started. Instead, he said, "Thanks, but I'll go with you. I can get settled in later." Better to keep an eye on him now, maybe learn something.

The rest of the students had arrived when Draco and Talione returned. A lot of them stared openly at Talione as they passed him on the way to their dormitories. He and Draco joined Draco's group in the chairs at the fire, but almost as soon as he sat down, Blaise tapped him on the shoulder and pointed behind his chair.

Talione turned and saw Professor Snape glaring down at him. "Mr. Riddle, I want a word with you in my office."

When he looked to the others for an explanation, Draco gave a tiny shrug, and he turned back to the professor. "Why?" he asked. "I haven't done anything yet."

"_Now_," Snape growled. Talione excused himself and followed Snape out of the common room. It was a quick walk. They were almost back at the Great Hall again when Snape stopped suddenly in front of a door and threw it open. "In!"

Talione went in the office. The room could've been on the set of _Frankenstein_: shadowy, with shelves stocked with hundreds of glass jars and vials full of floating plants and animal bits in colored potions he didn't recognize. A few more jars stood on Snape's desk, liquidless, holding slimy-looking objects he thought were plants. The fireplace was dark and empty, but candles scattered around the room gave off some light. Snape closed the door and turned to look at Talione.

He had lost his scowl and watched Talione through narrowed eyes. Talione stood as straight as he could, his head high and his eyes locked on Snape's, waiting for him to speak. For a full minute they were both silent--so long that Talione wondered if Snape wasn't trying to read his mind. The professor was the first to look away. He drew his wand from his robes, pointed it at the fireplace, and flames erupted in it, brightening the room considerably. He jabbed the wand at the fireside chairs next and one slid across the floor to the desk. The other flew to the opposite side. "Sit, Mr. Riddle."

Talione sat down. Snape swept around the desk and sat down, putting his wand on the desktop. "Welcome to Slytherin," Snape said softly. "I can only imagine the stories Potter, Granger, and the Weasleys told you about Slytherin this summer."

"Very few, sir," Talione said. "I was in my room most of the time. I only know they hate you and Malfoy can't be trusted."

Snape frowned. "Then you didn't know that the group you were seen leaving the Great Hall with all have parents who are Death Eaters?" he asked.

With his doubts so suddenly and unpleasantly confirmed, it was few seconds before Talione could reply. "Just Drac—_all of them_? You're serious?" He hoped Snape was only pulling his leg, but the professor nodded. "I mean, I …oh, _hell!_ I'm dead," he ended in a mutter, finally breaking eye contact and dropping his gaze to his lap. The fingernails of his right hand were digging into his left forearm, and he quickly let go, watching the skin redden. _'Classes haven't even started yet,' _he thought, _'and already you're losing it.'_

"You look very much alive to me," Snape said coldly. Talione pushed the oddity from his mind and looked up; the professor's face was unreadable. "And I assure you, you will stay that way as long as you are inside the castle." He put a slight stress on the last word. "No student would be so stupid as to kill another at Hogwarts, even Malfoy."

Talione was only a little reassured. "Harry told me over the summer that Draco was a Death Eater's son, but he hadn't told me what he looked like, sir," he said. "He introduced himself on the way to the common room…"

"You seemed friendly enough with him when I came for you."

"I figured I should keep an eye on him—see if he's a threat."

"He's a threat," Snape said matter-of-factly. "With the war against the Dark Lord brewing, Slytherin is split; Malfoy is the ringleader of his supporters amongst the students; the rest look after themselves and stay out of the way."

Talione thought a moment, wondering why Snape was being so straightforward. He asked outright: "Professor, why are you telling me all this?" he asked. "It's appreciated, but—"

Snape's lip curled. "Professor Dumbledore's orders," he interrupted. "He asked me to insure that you knew what you got yourself into, since you've run afoul of Death Eaters before. I do not tolerate fighting in the house, even with Malfoy; if I hear of it, you will be sorry."

"Yes, sir…" Talione said. "Is that all?"

"No." Snape opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of parchment with Talione's name on the top. He slid it across the desk and Talione flipped it around so he could see it. It was a class schedule, showing a double period of Potions as his first class the next morning.

Snape let him look the schedule over. When Talione looked up again, he leaned forward and said in a dangerous tone, "I am astounded that McGonagall has admitted you to my Potions class, without taking the O.W.L. exam. I want to make it very clear that your circumstances do not entitle you to any special treatment from me, and I expect nothing less than Outstanding work from my sixth--and seventh—year students at all times. My highest level of expectation _will _be met, or you will find yourself permanently dismissed from my class. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal."

Snape leaned back again. "You are dismissed."

Talione stood and walked to the door, but before he opened it, he remembered another question. Snape was still watching him when he turned around. "What now?" Snape asked.

"Would you mind keeping Eldraeli a secret, sir?" Talione asked. "The others will find out eventually—this week or next if some use their brains or Potter's group let's something slip—but I'd like to put that day off as long as I can."

Snape nodded. "I will," he said tersely. "Now get out of my sight."

"G'night to you too..." Talione muttered as he left.

The rest of Talione's roommates had gone to bed by the time he returned. He got ready for bed, staying awake just long enough to pull shut his bed curtains and cast a Silencing charm to keep out the snoring.


	14. First Day Headaches

(Disclaimer: Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I am flattering J.K Rowling. Everything in the six published books are hers, everything else is mine.)

**Chapter 13: The First Day Headaches**

The digital screen was still frozen at the time he got on Platform 93/4, but somehow the alarm in Talione's watch still worked. It shrieked in his ear the next morning, waking him from a restless sleep. He was momentarily confused to see the green and silver drapes around his bed, and when he groaned when he remembered he was in the Slytherin dormitory, his home for most of the next two years. His stomach lurched uncomfortably at the thought.

Talione had left his wand under his pillow. He removed it, pointed to the curtains around his bed, and muttered, _"Finite Incantatem." _Immediately, a noise like a saw came through the curtains. He pushed back the curtains, and was relieved to see the other five beds full. Talione didn't mind that he was the only one awake; it made things easier. He gathered his shower kit and some clothes, and hurried to the bathroom. In half an hour he was showered, dressed, and leaving the common room with his backpack on his shoulder, crammed full of textbooks.

There wasn't much he could do except go to the Great Hall for breakfast. Talione made several wrong turns in the dungeons on his way to the hall, winding up twice back at the Slytherin common room. Finally, he found his way back to the Entrance hall. The Great Hall was half full when Talione went in. His roommates weren't there, but most of the remaining Slytherins were.

Talione took a seat near the door, filled his plate from the steaming trays on the table, and retrieved his schedule from his backpack to look over again. If he ate quickly, there was time enough to look for the classrooms he had to be at later. After breakfast was double Potions, a break, and then Charms before lunch. Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures took up the afternoon.

"Rough start of the week, isn't it?"

Talione didn't need to see him to know Draco was reading his schedule over his shoulder. "Yeah, Potions was never my favorite subject," he said. "At least I think I'm outside this afternoon."

"Yeah. Herbology's in the greenhouses." Draco took the seat next to him. "Hagrid's class is at his hut. Why d'you sign up for that? The man's a nutter."

"Because Divination's for losers," Talione growled, glancing up at the staff table where Hagrid was just taking his seat, "And animals aren't boring."

"All he brings to class are things that would rip your head off. I got attacked the first class by his hippogriff," Draco spat. "You should quit the class while you still got your arms and legs."

"I'll think about it," Talione said.

Soon enough the hall was full and breakfast was winding down. The four Heads of House started down the tables to pass out schedules. Snape slowed when he reached the sixth-years to determine if they had the O.W.L. scores to get into their chosen subjects. Draco shared all but Care of Magical Creatures with Talione, and he had breaks during the times Talione had Hagrid's class.

"We start studying for N.E.W.T.s this year," he warned. "You'll regret having six subjects." He jerked his head at the door. "C'mon, time to go."

Talione grabbed his backpack and followed him out the door. They almost ran over Ginny Weasley on the way. Talione gave her a polite 'good morning' and got a nod back. Draco sneered at her.

"A word of advice," he said, as they walked back to the dungeons, "Stay away from her. Her brother Ron is the thickest prat to walk the earth; he'll have a go at you if he sees you talking to his sister."

"They didn't mind me when we traveled together."

"You weren't a Slytherin. Us and Gryffindor are like oil and water. We don't mix."

When they reached the dungeon classroom, Talione separated from Draco and sat at the workstation behind him, where he could watch the students coming in. They were surprisingly few: Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson were the other Slytherins, and then there was Harry and Hermione, three Ravenclaws, and a lone Hufflepuff.

As soon as everyone found seats, Snape glided into the room. He walked to the front and spun on his heel to face the class. "This is N.E.W.T. Potions," he growled. "Most of you are here because you've displayed an aptitude for the delicate science of potion brewing. _Others," _he stressed, looking pointedly at Harry, "seemed to have charmed their way in with no merit of their own." Harry glared defiantly back at Snape, not allowing himself to be bullied. Snape's volume dropped further and he looked away from Harry. "I will accept nothing less than exceptional work from each of you. Fall behind, and I will permanently remove you from this class.

"We will start the year with the more harmful powders, potions, and their antidotes. Today's lesson is sneezing powder." Talione stifled a grin. He studied the powder a couple years ago—an easier antidote to brew, but time-consuming—so it was an opportunity to contribute easy house points. "Who can tell me the active ingredient, its effects, and why it is classified as a poison?" Talione raised his hand. Hermione was the only other to do so. "Mr. Riddle."

"Ragweed pollen," he said quickly. "The higher the ratio of pollen to powder, the more sneezing the pollen causes. Too high—that is, fifty percent or more—and it will kill the victim through asphyxiation. And if used on an asthmatic, even a semi-normal concentration of forty percent will kill."

Snape looked slightly impressed. "You've made this powder before, I see." Talione nodded. "Fifteen points to Slytherin," he said. "Miss Granger, the antidote."

"Not bad," Blaise whispered beside him.

"--powdered root, stem, and leaves of the ragweed plant in a base of dandelion wine." Hermione was right, but it was an exact recitation of the textbook definition and Snape didn't give Gryffindor any points.

"Today's exercise is to brew the antidote," Snape said. He glanced briefly at Talione and added, "Thirty-five percent concentration." He turned and waved a hand at the blackboard, and their instructions appeared. "Begin."

Talione didn't need a lot of concentration for his antidote, so it was harder to block out Snape's loud, derisive comments to the Slytherins about the "disgracefully easy" questions on the Potions O.W.L. exam. Blaise kept looking over Talione's shoulder to see what he was doing, and almost ruined his own potion by adding too much of the pollen.

Near the end of the lesson, Snape stopped talking and started walking around the room. Talione tuned out his commentary on the progress of the other potions and started chopping up some valerian root. It was a step he knew from his last lesson using sneezing powder but it wasn't on the board.

Blaise was mystified. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "Your potion's good!"

"I've done this before. The valerian is missing from the end," Talione whispered. "It's supposed to be the catalyst."

The valerian leaves were tricky. They had to be cut into narrow pieces and added just as the simmering potion turned green. Blaise was quick, had a good eye for measurements, and quickly caught up. The timing was the real problem. "When I say go, throw in the plant," Talione ordered.

"_What _are you two doing?" Snape growled behind him.

Talione jumped and almost sliced the tip of his thumb off. "It's the last step, sir," he said. "You didn't write it up."

"And didn't you think there might be a _reason_ for that?" Snape said menacingly.

"I thought you forgot," Talione replied. He was too far into the last step to back out, even if Snape docked points. He kept an eye on his potion and counted the seconds. When the ragweed settled enough to see an inch into the potion, Talione snapped a quick "Go" to Blaise, tossed in his valerian shreds, and watched the potions turn pale green and transparent. There was a moment of tense silence, and Talione thought Snape might dock points after all, and give him a detention on top of it.

"Another ten points to Slytherin."

Talione breathed a sigh of relief as the professor moved on to criticize Draco's potion. He grinned at Blaise and whispered, "I thought for sure he'd blow his top!"

"You knew what you're doing," said Blaise. "He doesn't dock points for competence."

While they cleaned up the tables, Snape walked around the room again, giving each person a dose of sneezing powder to test their antidotes. Most everyone else had potions at the dark green, murky stage where the blackboard had left off. The Hufflepuff, Macmillan, was unlucky to have a sticky green-brown substance in his flagon. He was summarily chewed out for inattention and after he took the correct antidote, he was given a 'D'.

Unsurprisingly, Hermione had recognized the missing step at the last minute, and her potion was also correct, as was Harry's by association. Snape's malice increased when Harry stopped sneezing. "Ten points from Gryffindor," he said. "Granger, I told you not to help him." Hermione bristled and held her tongue.

They got an essay on hellebore for homework. Blaise returned his ingredients to the cabinet, took care of his cauldron, and left the rest for Talione so he could run to Arithmancy. He was finishing up when Snape approached him again and handed him a folded slip of paper. "The headmaster wants to see you when after classes, Riddle."

Talione unfolded the paper, which read simply, _'Fizzing Whizbee.'_

"Okaaay… Talione said, wracking his brain for a clue to what a Fizzing Whizbee was. "Thanks, sir." Snape nodded. Talione pocketed the paper, and followed the other students out of the classroom.

Draco was waiting for him outside. "What's the note for?" he asked immediately, taking a few quick steps to match Talione's stride as he went by.

"Dumbledore wants to see me this afternoon," Talione said.

"Oh. Probably wants to make sure you're settling in, ask about classes, give you the grand welcome, so on and so forth," Draco said. "Where're you going?"

"Exploring. I want to find the library and get started on Snape's essay done so I'm not swamped tonight," he said. "You?"

"None of your business." Talione didn't pry further.

They reached the entrance hall and Draco directed Talione's attention to four hourglasses he noticed before. Before breakfast they were empty, but now the Slytherin glass had a pile of emeralds in the bottom. "We're ahead of the other houses now. Nice job." He sounded sincere. "And you're in Snape's good graces, too, for now."

Talione shrugged, but he was pleased with the compliment.

Draco split off a few minutes later. Talione was relieved to see him go; he didn't like that the majority of his time at Hogwarts so far had been spent with the other Slytherin.

He spent his break wandering around the castle. The few students he came across gave him scornful looks and ignored him when he asked for directions, so he resorted to asking the furnishings. Talione figured out on the first try that the suits of armor weren't magic like most of the castle, and given the opportunity, some portraits would derail and go off on useless tangents of information. Finally, a picture of an old witch with a dog chided her neighbors and kindly pointed Talione in the right direction. He got to the library in time to write a page of his essay before the bell rang for Charms.

&&&&

Ron was beaming and windswept when he met up with Harry and Hermione again in the queue outside Flitwick's classroom. Beside his break during Potions, he shared their break between it and Charms. While the other two worked on Snape's essay—at Hermione's insistence--he had been out flying on the Quidditch Pitch, practicing for the tryouts, he said.

"Ron, you're already the Keeper," Hermione said. "Why do you need to tryout?"

"Good teams are ruined because the captain's keep their friends on!" Ron insisted.

"But we don't have a captain!" Harry said pointedly. None of the team had admitted getting the badge. It was troubling to think McGonagall had forgotten to assign it.

Ron shrugged. "We will sometime. The positions should go to the best players, so I have to keep practicing," he said. "I was rubbish for all but the end last year." Changing the subject, he asked, "How was Snape?"

"Evil as ever," Harry grumbled. "He didn't write the last step for the antidote on the board, and then docked points because Hermione figured it out and told me." The only way he kept his temper was to hold onto the thought of punching him square in the jaw the day he graduated.

"It's not fair," Hermione agreed. "Talione did the same for Zabini."

"Snape was a git, is a git, and will always be a git," Ron said offhandedly. "Glad I don't have him anymore."

His eyes flicked to a point over Harry's shoulder then, and he scowled, giving away the Slytherins behind Harry and Hermione before Malfoy drawled, "Hello, Granger, Weasel-king…Alright there, Scar-head? Need a lie-down?"

Harry turned to face him. His bodyguards had joined him sometime after Potions. Nott and Zabini were with Malfoy also. Nott was seen with Malfoy last year, after Harry named his father as a Death Eater, but he wasn't quite a fixture of Malfoy's hang-ons as Zabini and the others were.

"I'm fine, ferret," Harry said coldly. "Shove off."

Before the verbatim could escalate beyond the familiar barbs, Flitwick's door opened to let them in the room. Perched on top of the traditional stack of books that let him see the class, he waited for them to settle down. The room was a lot larger than usual, but there was a little less elbow-room in it. It looked like all of the sixth-years were there, but if Crabbe and Goyle—who were as dimwitted as they came—could get a passing O.W.L, everyone else was definitely in.

The first thing Professor Flitwick did was congratulate them on their hard work, his squeaky voice enthusiastic, and in the same breath warned them of the difficulty of their N.E.W.T.S. With the O.W.L.S still fresh in their minds it was a little unsettling, but they had two years to prepare so they weren't disturbed by much.

"The first thing you will learn this year is how to make an illusion. Illusions and Conjuring are two much more advanced kinds of charms. Illusion forms the basis of Conjuring, for you must learn to do the one before you can attempt the other."

Hermione was already scribbling, although Harry couldn't see anything important yet in what the tiny professor was saying. Ron was frowning at Hermione's notes, equally confused, trying to copy her.

"An illusion requires a large amount of energy and to be successful, you need to maintain absolute, uninterrupted concentration," Flitwick said. "The illusion is only as strong or realistic as you make it, and you mustn't allow your mind to wander. Most witches and wizards find this too onerous, and do not attempt it."

He went into a lecture about light and how the control, manipulation, and refraction affected the illusion being produced, and how you had to know almost every detail of the real thing to make an exact copy. Harry tried to keep up in his notes, but his mind wandered. What good would an illusion do him except to deceive someone?

"Today, you'll be creating a simple illusion," Flitwick said. "You will each get a Sickle and a ball. Mind, I want the money back at the end. Your job is to make an illusion of one or the other." He raised his wand and pointed it at his desk. _"Illuderas_." A bright Sickle appeared on the desk, exact down to the shadow it cast. "Like so. You try."

Muttering ensued around the room as the objects were passed out. Harry stared at his ball, and tried to memorize every detail about it. How did this charm work? Was he supposed to put it together bit by bit, or was it like a Patronus, and he had to concentrate on the words and image at the same time? He tried the first one, pointing his wand at the table and saying, _"Illuderas."_

Nothing happened. He glanced at Ron and Hermione to see if they were having better luck. Ron was glaring at his ball. Hermione was concentrating so hard she was shaking all over, but there was a faint silver outline on the desk in front of her. Harry changed objects. Fixing the coin firmly in his mind's eye, he waved his wand again. _"Illuderas."_ Slowly, a silver outline like Hermione's appeared, and then filled in with color and detail. Harry could still see the tabletop through the middle, but it was an unmistakable Sickle.

Flitwick saw his work and clapped his hands. "A good first attempt, Potter! Well done!" he said excitedly. "Ten points to Gryffindor." With a smile, the professor added, "You have a talent for illusions, don't you, Mr. Potter?"

Puzzled, he looked up at Flitwick and his Sickle vanished. "What talent, sir?" he said.

"Everyone knows you can produce an impressive Patronus," Flitwick said. "And the Patronus is in part a complex illusion. If you can master that one, producing a Sickle is easy."

Hermione was staring at him in astonishment, her face flushed from the effort she was giving her spell. She had tried it several times while Harry was thinking, but she hadn't produced the coin yet. "How did you do that?" she asked.

"It's what Flitwick said," Harry told his friends. "If you can use the Patronus Charm, you can do this. They work the same way. You have to concentrate on the words and the image at the same time."

Ron's brow furrowed and he resumed glaring at his ball. He waved his wand. _"Illuderas!" _A duplicate appeared in front of him, too, a little hazier than the real one. "It worked! Wicked!"

Looking about, Harry was oddly amused to see that the majority of the students who got the hang of the spell were members of the D.A. that learned the Patronus Charm from him. By the end of the lesson, they were still the majority. For homework they were told to continue practicing the charm, and given an essay to write on the topic.

Although she had produced a Sickle by the end of class, Hermione was still disgruntled at lunch. She took an apple from the bowl and disappeared behind her Charms book. They could hear her muttering to herself behind it.

When Ron asked her to pass the boiled potatoes, she did so with a fierce glare. Ron wasn't fazed. "So what if you weren't the first person to get it right?" he told her. "Take a break and eat.

"But that was a simple illusion, Ron! We're doing more complex things next class!" she fretted.

Ron leaned across the table, grabbed the top of the book, and pulled it down so they could see her. "_Hermione, _if you can do the Patronus and Protean charms," he said, "which you know is _really_ advanced magic, you can do illusions! Don't worry about it!"

For a moment, Hermione continued to glare at him. Then her expression softened and she closed the book and set it aside. "You're right," she said. "Thanks."

As they were leaving the hall for Herbology, Harry muttered to Ron, "What was that about?"

A pink tinge washed over Ron's ears. "Like I was going to let her do that all day?" he said. "She's mental, you know that. She'd be on our backs about it all tonight if I didn't head her off."

Harry let it slide. If they wanted to keep tip-toeing around, that was their business.

The Herbology lesson was worse than usual. They spent the time in trios trying to fish small brown pods out of the middle of a Donfigus bush. The plant was like a cross between Devil's Snare and a blowfish. The trick was speed; the plant 'inhaled' air to enlarge itself like a blowfish, arming spikes on the end of several tendrils that protruded from the leaves. Once a minute it would 'burp' out the air to inhale again. When it burped, they'd stick a gloved hand into the opening in the middle of the plant and either a pod would be removed, or the unlucky student would have their hand stuck. If that happened, they had no choice but to wait for the plant to burp again and hope their partners were good at fending off the plant's attack.

It wasn't much of a consolation when Professor Sprout told them the pods were invaluable, used in Wolfsbane and the antidote to the Draught of Living Death. It was with quite a bit of relief that Professor Sprout ended the class and passed around some salve to heal the injuries.

"Bye. Time to go see what new thing Hagrid's got to kill us with," Ron said gloomily as they exited. He had Care of Magical Creatures in place of Potions. He turned down the hill to Hagrid's hut while they walked back up to the castle.

"Oh, I hope Hagrid's not mad we dropped his class," Hermione said a little anxiously.

"He'll understand," Harry said. "The workload's too much to take his as well." He was thinking the same thing, though. What _was_Hagrid going to do when he saw two of his favorite students were missing?

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

The Care of Magical Creatures class was even less popular than Potions. There were only sixth others enrolled: Ron, another redhead Gryffindor, Macmillan and a girl called Hannah, and two Ravenclaw boys he saw in Charms. Talione was all for losing himself in the lesson and forgetting about his housemates for as long as the class lasted, but he was made well aware of his standing as the lone Slytherin present. No one said anything to be taken as confrontational, but he could sense an invisible wall separating him from the rest.

Hagrid had brought in an Augury for observation, which was far tamer than the chimera Talione half-expected, almost boring. Hagrid called on him the couple times he raised his hand, but otherwise ignored him. Talione decided if the next lesson was the same as the first, he wasn't going to have any qualms at all about following Draco's advice and dumping the subject.

He would've liked to return to his common room and try to unwind before dinner, if the thought of meeting Draco or his cronies there hadn't repulsed him. And there was his summons to Dumbledore's office to sit through first.

Fate cut him some slack; a Ravenclaw humored Talione and pointed him in the right direction. He shortly found the gargoyle he was looking for. "Fizzing Whizbee," he told it. The gargoyle leapt aside and the wall where it stood split in half and slid apart, revealing a spiral staircase that was rising upward like a stone escalator. Talione hopped on, and the wall slammed shut behind him. The stairs rose, and stopped when he reached a large wooden door at the top, with a griffin knocker. He rapped the door twice and it swung open.

Dumbledore was sitting behind a claw-foot desk, looking over some papers. Talione closed the door and waited for him to finish, using the interval to get a good look around. There were portraits all around the room of sleeping wizards and witches, with a few empty portraits scattered through the group. Books, papers, and silver instruments that spouted squeaks, whirrs, and puffs of smoke covered almost every surface, except for an empty gold perch behind the door, and a small shelf that held the Sorting Hat.

When Mayhew was still alive, the headmaster's office had been far neater than this. The Death Eater headmaster abhorred clutter. His murder was all the more striking for it, because the scuffle had shattered a window, his fireplace, and a row of books, and Mayhew's blood was splashed on his desk and floor…

Talione didn't know what it looked like after Mayhew was replaced. Professor Burke didn't have favorites, and took more care of the school in general.

Dumbledore put down the paperwork and looked up. "Thank you for waiting," he said, smiling. He picked up the wand on the desk and waved it. A small purple armchair appeared on the other side of the desk. "Please have a seat." Another wand wave, and a tea service and plate of cookies appeared on the desk. "Would you like some tea, Talione?"

Talione nodded. Dumbledore poured two cups of tea, gave Talione his, and nudged the plate of cookies towards him. He took one; it tasted strongly of ginger.

"How was your first day?" Dumbledore asked, taking a cookie.

"Honestly?" Talione said. Had he been summoned just to drink tea and talk about his day?

"I always want you to be honest."

He had trusted Mayhew, too, and that ended badly. But Dumbledore enrolled him at Hogwarts, took steps to protect him and his family, trusted him to keep secret the address of the Order's headquarters…He almost owed the old wizard a life-debt for all that was done for him…

In the end, angry at himself for doing it, Talione threw his precious restraint aside.

"The other houses hate me because I'm a Slytherin. And as Professor Snape so _kindly _pointed out last night, most of my roommates have Death Eater parents—maybe Nott, too, but I haven't checked yet," he said. "Snape also said they wouldn't kill me, but if I'm a big enough threat, they will. I miss my family, and my friends. I miss Eldraeli. I already miss being around people I can be myself around without thinking someone's going to kill me for it."

It sounded painfully like ranting—or worse, whining—to his ears, and when he was done he didn't want to move his gaze from the desktop, afraid to see the pity on Dumbledore's face. All he said was stuff from today. Dumbledore hadn't asked him about the summer yet. Talione hoped he never would.

"I can't re-Sort you," Dumbledore said gently. "But I still believe Hogwarts is the safest place for you, Talione. You can take Professor Snape's assurance seriously; no student in Hogwarts will go so far as to end your life. Unless they have the Dark Mark, they won't risk expulsion and imprisonment, even for Voldemort."

Talione hated Dumbledore for being right. He lifted his head and met the headmaster's gaze. There was sympathy there, but thankfully, no pity. "Fine, I'll stick around."

Dumbledore took another cookie from the plate, his blue eyes boring into Talione.

"I just can't shake the feeling this is a mistake. I have to watch every little thing I say and do, wondering how far I should go to throw Draco and the others off, and if when I stop I'll find myself in over my head," Talione said. "And they're going to start asking questions about my last school soon, Professor, and I'm not going to have answers. Do I lie, or tell them the truth? They'll be angry either way, when the truth comes out."

He sipped his tea again and grimaced; it was cold. He set the teacup back on the desk. "I don't know what to do. Even if none of them have the Dark Mark, I feel like the spy in the Death Eater camp."

"Funny how some things work out…" Dumbledore murmured.

"What does that mean?" he challenged. "You're not going to ask me to rat on them, are you? You've already badgered me into the class."

"No, I'm not going to ask that of you," the headmaster said, his voice sharpening slightly. "And I didn't _badger_ you. It was your decision in the end to say yes or no."

Talione frowned. When Dumbledore made his proposition he'd had the unfair advantage of knowing that Talione would rather drink Snape's most foul poison than let another school follow Eldraeli's example.

"I am merely…advising you to speak with your Head of House sometime…" Dumbledore continued. "You will find he understands your curious position better than anyone."

"Fine, I'll talk to him," Talione sighed.

"Is there anything else you'd like to discuss before you go?" Dumbledore asked.

Talione thought about it. "Yeah, there is something," he said. "Would you send a note to Harry for me? There's something I need to talk about with him, the Weasleys, and Hermione. If I wrote it, I'm not sure they'd meet with me if I wrote it."

"Do you have a time and place in mind?" Dumbledore asked.

"Here, if it's allowed. You should hear it, too," he replied. "Umm…I don't know their schedules. Anything after two days from now at 7pm?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I will send the information."

"Thank you, sir."

"And if you will accept another piece of wisdom from an old wizard…" Dumbledore said, "you should start down to the Great Hall so you don't miss dinner."

&&&&&&

At least the first day of this year wasn't as awful as the last year's. Ron was a little more cheerful; Hagrid's assignment was to finish writing up their Augury observations and add a foot of research. Hermione was reading her Potions text while she ate, and didn't speak or look up until Ginny fell onto the bench beside her, looking strung out.

"Hey, Ginny!" Ron said, injecting as much enthusiasm in as possible. "How was the first day of O.W.L. year?"

Ginny gave him a look of deepest loathing. "I don't know how you did it!" she exclaimed. "I already have to write three feet of parchment on Vanishing and practice it for McGonagall. I have to write another four feet for Snape on the properties of moonstones and two potions they're used in, and on top of it, and Flitwick said he might be giving us a pop quiz on last year's material, so I have to review that all tonight as well as writing another essay for him!"

Harry winced, remembering the assignments. "At least you don't have to work in detention with Umbridge," he said.

"You'll be thankful when you take your exams," Hermione said seriously.

Ginny stared incredulously at her. "Only you'd be grateful for extra work, 'Mione."

"Well, she did get ten O.W.L.S," Ron said. Hermione smiled smugly. "What d'you expect?"

"I'd be happy with half that number," Ginny sighed. "How did your days go? Better than mine, I hope."

"I didn't spill or burn anything in Potions, and I didn't do anything to make Snape dock points for once," Harry said, "but the git got points off Hermione when she told me about the step missing from the board, and gave my potion a D." He brightened. "Charms is alright. Flitwick started us on illusions, and said I had a talent for it."

Ron grinned. "It's because he can do the Patronus," he clarified to Ginny, who looked greatly impressed. "And since he taught it to us, only the D.A. didn't get homework. Almost everyone else has three feet to write on it!"

"Today was really light, though," said Hermione.

"C'mon, Hermione, don't spoil it for us!" Ron groaned.

"But we have double Charms _and_ Transfiguration, Defense, and Herbology again tomorrow!" Hermione insisted.

Harry asked, "Any of you know who's teaching Defense yet?" There was a three-part chorus of "no". All of them glanced at the staff table, but the professor's chair was still empty.

"Whoever it is, please don't do anything to make them hate you, Harry," Hermione said.

Harry gaped at her. "Since when I have I _made _them hate me?" he said incredulously. He couldn't remember doing anything to make Umbridge, Quirrel, and Moody hate him, except simply breathing. All he did to Umbridge was try to stop her from telling lies. "Voldemort's enough to deal with without having a professor out to get me."

"Just don't provoke them," she sighed.

"Fat chance," muttered Ginny.

Harry hoped this new professor would be on their side and teach them how to defend themselves. If he had to kill Voldemort or be killed by him, he'd have a better chance of surviving the war if he knew what he was doing instead of scraping by through sheer luck.


	15. The Werewolf and the Tartan Cat

(Disclaimer: The sixth Harry Potter has been published. You all know this ain't it.)

**Chapter 14: The Werewolf and the Tartan Cat**

They didn't have to wait for Defense class to see the new professor the next morning.

Although a day late, Snape had picked up his own start-of-term ritual again; at breakfast he was seen glaring hatefully down the table at the stranger who was sandwiched between Madame Hooch and Hagrid. He was a model of proper posture, rigidly erect in his chair, but it appeared that he was uncomfortable sitting that way. A small web of pink scars stood out on his left cheek, but the rest of his face was corpselike in hue, as if he spent all his time in the dark. His eyes darting between his plate and the students trickling in.

He was strongly reminiscent of Mad-Eye Moody, but both the real and fake Moodys took Snape's glaring in stride, and the new professor looked everywhere except in Snape's direction.

"Oh dear," Hermione said in a low voice, pausing to stare at the new professor before she sat down.

"What's zat?" Ron said, already filling his plate. He hadn't started eating quite yet, sparing Hermione and Harry a fresh display of half-eaten food.

"The new professor's wearing a back brace," Hermione informed them. "What do you think happened to him?"

Ron looked up at the staff table. "Dunno. Death Eaters?"

"Ron!" said Hermione exasperatedly. "I know we're in a war"--several students around them fell silent as if a switch was pressed—"but Death Eaters aren't the end-all cause of injuries! For all we know, he fell down the stairs or off a horse."

"You asked what I thought happened to him!" Ron said indignantly. "And what wizard would ride a horse? Brooms are safer."

"_I've_ ridden before," she said. "It was a very patient horse, thankfully. I wasn't a good rider."

"Something you aren't good at?" Ron exclaimed. "Call the_ Daily Prophet_! The world is going to end! The sky is going to rain cats! Malfoy's going to wear a tutu and sing for the Weird Sisters!"

Since everyone around them was quiet, most of the hall heard Ron's shout, and most of the students roared with laughter. _"Ron!" _cried Hermione, her face coloring in embarrassment, but she laughed with the rest of them.

"What's going on?" Neville asked as he joined them, Dean Thomas and Ginny in tow. Ron gave Dean a disgusted look when he saw their clasped hands.

_'At least he stopped ignoring Dean,' _Harry thought. It was too uncomfortable in their room; Seamus had apologized profusely to Harry the night they arrived, and Ron acted like Dean didn't exist.

Ginny made a rude gesture back and pulled Dean to a seat farther away.

"The new professor has a back brace," Harry told Neville. "And Ron said the world's ending in cat-rain because Hermione can't ride a horse."

Neville looked up at the ceiling. "Looks like an ordinary storm to me," he said glumly.

The rain remained through Charms and Transfiguration, and hadn't let up when they went down to Herbology, or left it for Defense. They were all soaked when they reached the castle and displeased to see Snape in the entrance hall. He looked unusually distracted, but when he saw them—and their muddy shoes and soaked robes—his sneer was still the same. "Filch just cleaned these floors and you're tracking in mud." He glanced over the group and saw Harry. "Potter! Clean this mess up!"

Harry smirked, drew his wand, and waved it at the floor. _"Evanesco." _The mud vanished. Snape spun on his heel and left the hall for his dungeons.

They hurried off to the Defense classroom. "Something's wrong with the git," Harry said on the way. "I thought Snape would tell me to use my toothbrush. And he didn't punish me for using magic in the halls. So did you," he added to Hermione.

"Thanks for reminding me, Potter," sighed Ernie Macmillan behind them, walking around the trio. "That's ten points from Gryffindor."

Harry grimaced at Ernie's back as he walked past. Ernie took his prefect job very seriously. "Even Snape has an off day," Hermione said. "Leave it." Harry was more than happy to. He had looked forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts all day, and was eager to see if the professor was any good.

Their group from Herbology was the first one there, but somehow, Talione was already sitting in the back with his feet up on the desk, scowling through the window at the rain. His robes and hair were dry.

"Skive off Herbology, did you?" Malfoy directed at him, pushing past Harry and his friends and walking towards him. He took the seat next to Talione. Talione ignored him.

Harry couldn't remember seeing him during Transfiguration either.

Malfoy tried to pry loose an explanation for a few more seconds, and quit. He started whispering to Nott. Talione returned to watching the rain. Slytherins were at least consistent in trying to hide dissention in the ranks.

When most of the class had arrived, Harry stopped listening to Hermione's muttering about the illusion they had for Charms homework and looked around. He was unsurprised to see the Defense class was almost as large as the one for Charms, and pleased to see all of the D.A. sixth-years. Of the Slytherins, Crabbe and Goyle were missing again. Parkinson, Bulstrode, and Zabini had joined Malfoy and Nott.

"Reckon he'll be any good?" Ron whispered.

Harry shrugged. "If he isn't, my galleon's in my pocket."

Their newest professor came in a few minutes late, carrying a thick orange folder in his good hand. The outline of his brace clearer under his robes from the side and he walked a little stiffly, but he appeared a lot more comfortable standing than he had sitting for breakfast. Without Hagrid present the professor was taller than he first appeared. His legs were slightly too long for his body, giving him a stork-like look.

He stopped behind the desk at the front of the room, drew his wand, and waved it at a desk drawer; it opened and a pair of gold spectacles floated out and up to perch on his nose. He put the folder on his desk, opened it and scanned the top sheet inside—plain paper, which was unusual at Hogwarts—and closed the folder again, looking up.

"Good afternoon, class." He had a low, rough voice. Remembering Umbridge's first class, a lot of students repeated the greeting. The man smiled. "What a cheerful lot," he said. "I don't expect you to greet me like that every class, but if you want to, try out some sincerity. Welcome to N.E.W.T. level Defense Against the Dark Arts, creature section," said the professor. "I am Sean Haywood."

Harry exchanged frowns with Ron. _Creature section?_ It had to be a joke.

"You may call me Professor, Professor Haywood, sir, you there, werewolf…" There were a few gasps and surprised murmurs; they had guessed Lupin might be their professor, but no one suspected Dumbledore of hiring a different werewolf. "Yes, I thought I'd get that out early," Haywood said. "Your parents can get the Howlers over and done with and I can do more constructive things than worry you'll find out about my condition."

Hermione's hand shot up. "Yes, you with the bushy hair."

"Hermione Granger," she said. "What did you mean by "creature section"?"

Haywood's smile grew a little. "Exactly what I said. I am covering creatures, Granger. It's stepping on your Hagrid's toes a little, but you had junk last year, and curses before that. In other words, very little on the subject of creatures since Remus Lupin was here. I will be covering the Dementors, Inferi—mentioned in the Ministry pamphlets—Lethifolds, and the like."

"So it's true? You-Know-Who is using Inferi?" asked Hannah Abbot nervously.

"It's not confirmed, but You-Know-Who used them last time," Haywood said, "So it's a good assumption he'll use them again."

Harry frowned. It sounded like they weren't doing spells again this year. "What about covering practical defense, sir? Umbridge wouldn't do it last year."

Haywood glanced at him, his eyes doing the familiar flick upwards to his scar. "Really, Mr. Potter…how does it look like I can teach you how to fight in my condition?"

"Err…no, sir," Harry replied, embarrassed. "But can't you demonstrate some spells?"

"Not really. Don't worry, Dumbledore has made arrangements for your dueling lessons, you'll see. And I understand you covered enough of it last year with your army…" Haywood trailed off and flipped his folder open again. "His name, anyway." He looked up again and dropped his smile. "I saw Edgecombe this morning, Granger. That was a quite a nasty charm you put on her."

"She betrayed us!" Harry and Hermione said simultaneously.

"I understand that. And be quiet, Potter, until I talk to you," Haywood said, still eyeing Hermione. "I saw your record, Granger. You have high marks across the board in academics, but you can be very vicious and very stupid…"

Hermione's face was white except for two spots of red in her cheeks. Of the professors, only Snape and Umbridge had insulted her before, and not in this direct, stern manner.

"Remember the renegade troll you sought out five years ago? McGonagall's report said she took five points from Gryffindor…I think she was so relieved to find you, Weasley, and Potter alive that she thought the battle itself would be enough to scare you straight," Haywood said quietly. "It didn't work. Professor Snape said one of you three stole Polyjuice Potion ingredients from his supplies four years ago, and the next year you attacked him."

Harry was momentarily confused until he recalled them knocking Snape out in the Shrieking Shack. How did Haywood know about that? "Professor, I think we got the point," he said angrily. "Can't you lay off?"

The professor pretended not to hear him. "Then there's last year. Edgecombe of course, and in June, you led Potter and Dolores Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest, knowing her hatred for half-breeds and the likelihood of meeting centaurs…you do realize it can be seen as _attempted murder_, Granger?"

Harry thought Hermione was going to be sick. She gulped and said shakily, "I t-thought--"

"No, you didn't think!" Haywood said. "She's currently in St. Mungo's. It seems she can't stop hearing hoof beats!"

Ron laughed nervously. He cut it off when Haywood looked at him. "Well she deserves it, sir," he said. "She used a Blood Quill—"

"I know what she did…" Haywood said curtly. "Weasley, isn't it? One of Arthur's boys?" Ron nodded. "Did you know the Ministry won't employ werewolves?" he said. "Ironically, I used to work in Being division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures before I was bitten. Dolores was carelessly, pointlessly, _viciously_ rude to those I worked with. I admit I loathed her. But she didn't deserve what happened."

If they let him, there was a possibility Haywood would've used the class time to hurt Hermione further, and maybe Ron and Harry too. It felt like sitting through an Occlumency lesson with Snape, but Harry wasn't the current target, and in Occlumency he knew to some extent what Snape was seeing and thinking. How much did Haywood know about? The Time Turner? Bartimus Crouch Jr.? Using the Cruciatus on Bellatrix Lestrange?

Susan Bones raised her hand.

"Name first, then question."

"Susan Bones, sir," she said. "Do you know who bit you?"

"One Fenrir Greyback," Haywood said. "Death Eater, nasty piece of work. His _modus operandi_ was"—he emphasized the past tense—"to bite children, especially Muggles. He would try to take them from their parents too, and raise them to hate wizards."

"But Voldemort"—amazingly, Haywood didn't bat an eye—"is a wizard," Harry countered. "Why did Greyback support _him_?"

Haywood's face darkened. He cleared his throat, started to speak, then stopped and stared at the desktop with brow furrowed. A minute passed while he mulled over an answer. "Although his methods were unusual, Greyback wasn't," he said at last. "Mostwerewolves would jump at the chance to follow You-Know-Who. Voldemort offers help, aid, protection, even prey for the sadistic, as long as the werewolf is loyal and doesn't do anything stupid that aids Dumbledore's flock.

"Dumbledore is one of the few people besides my wife to show me any support between my bite and return to these halls. Right now, most humans despise me for being a werewolf; most werewolves despise me for my former job. Thanks to Dolores and her ilk, I couldn't get another before now." A faint smile crossed Haywood's face and disappeared. "I was one of the lucky ones. Werewolves are human _every day_, and a wolf only three nights every month, but to wizardkind, we are the lowest form of man. I hope none of you_ ever_ experience such isolation."

Lavender Brown raised her hand and Haywood jerked his head at her. "If it's that bad, why didn't you join You-Know-Who?" she asked timidly.

"For all that he gives, the price You-Know-Who asks for is too high," Haywood said. "I like my soul where it is, and my blood inside me, thanks."

"Sir, how many werewolves are there?" Hermione said curiously.

Haywood shrugged. "Last I saw the register, there were four on the island," he said, "And roughly twenty spread across Europe, give or take eight. That's all I can remember."

"Give or take eight?" Dean spoke up.

The professor nodded. "The Ministry never had an exact count. If we encounter others of our kind, we either form friendly ties or attack each other. Then there's some who can't cope with their new life and commit suicide. And in the past, some were murdered by friends or family."

Harry shuddered, wondering if the same would've been Lupin's fate if he didn't go to Hogwarts.

"So if there's enough translators," Susan Bones said, "Can You-Know-Who amass an army?"

Haywood nodded again. "If he tries hard enough. So far, Remus Lupin is the only werewolf I heard turned down You-Know-Who. And there's this one bloke bitten last winter, refuses to pick a side." Harry thought he knew the man in question. There was a werewolf in Mr. Weasley's room at St. Mungo's when he was recovering from Nagini's bite.

The professor cleared his throat again. "And on that note, if you would all take out some paper or parchment? I ought to start lecturing. Who can tell me about the powerful draught that keeps us semi-harmless during the full moon, and the specifics of how it works?"

He quizzed them on everything they knew about werewolves and then some. When he found their history knowledge lacking he gave them—in disturbing detail—a condensed history of werewolves and werewolf hunts in the past, when most suspected and real werewolves were bitten Muggles and they were tortured, drawn and quartered, or drowned. If a werewolf witch or wizard was found, it was usually just after they transformed back, when they were still separated from their wands. Unable to properly defend themselves from attack or capture, they were given much the same treatment.

When Haywood thought they had enough he moved on to politics. For instance, the Werewolf Registry and Capture unit was in the Beast division of the department but the Werewolf Support Services office was in the Being division. Haywood knew the circumstances surrounding most of the laws that were passed, why, and how the legislature affected both the day-to-day life of the victims and the people who kept track of them from each division. The Werewolf Registration Act passed by Newt Scamander in 1947, was denounced as a "piece of trash". The act required werewolves to register themselves for tracking and services, and to check in with the Ministry from time to time to reassure the department that they were under control and following the restrictions placed on them. If they missed the deadline they were tracked down and heavily grilled on their activities. The werewolf got nothing but grief, and the Ministry workers had high piles of paperwork that took days to complete.

Although his voice stayed level throughout, Haywood grew agitated as time passed. The only part where he calmed at all was when he mentioned his wife again, and then his eyes shone with pride.

For the rare few married to a werewolf, another precaution was added; due to the danger level, if the spouse wasn't a registered Animagus, by law they were required to leave the residence during the nights of the full moon. Same with children. If they were old enough to learn how to become Animagi, they were welcome—and encouraged—to do so for their own safety. Animal form meant protection; a werewolf's bite only infects humans. Despite heavy pressure to leave her husband, Anne Haywood went through miles of red tape to become an Animagus instead—a tiger, no less.

There was clearly more he wished to say but the bell rang. Haywood jerked, startled out of his reverie, and said sheepishly, "End of class already?" He went back to his folder. "Homework, homework… yes, here it is… Ahem. For the next class, I am assigning a two foot essay on how to identify and kill a werewolf."

There was stunned silence in the room, broken by Lavender's spluttering. "B-but why? Hasn't Dumbledore taken steps to make you safe?"

"Yeah!" Parvati exclaimed. "And we've done that assignment before. We don't need it again."

The professor's head whipped up again. "Yes, you do need it!" he snarled. The class sat up straighter, surprised by the outburst.

"I'm sorry," Haywood muttered. "I didn't mean to snap. But that is my point. A werewolf never means the things he does in wolf shape. I'm going home for the full moons, so there's a sliver of a chance I could hurt you. But didn't I just say there's an _entire Registry _running round! What of them? Didn't one of your professors tell you all the time about 'Constant Vigilance'?"

There was a melancholy chorus of assents.

"I suggest you keep it in mind," Haywood told them. "And Patil, a refresher never hurts. You've had two years to forget the information. Class dismissed."

As Harry crossed in front of the desk, though, Haywood's hand shot out and snagged his collar, pulling him out of line. "Potter, hang on a tic," he growled. Ron and Hermione saw Haywood catch him and fell behind the rest to join him. Haywood noticed and added, "In_ private._"

"We'll be outside, Harry," Ron said boldly. Frowning, Hermione nodded agreement.

When the door closed behind them, Haywood let go of Harry. "Hmph. It's like they think I'm going to do you in."

"What do you want, sir?" Harry asked.

"Just an answer. Are you planning to resume Dumbledore's Army?"

"If you're not teaching us to defend ourselves, I will."

"Then you should know it will be a waste of time when September ends. You can review with them, if you want, but you don't need more than that." He waved his wand again and the folder floated into his desk drawer again.

Harry blinked. "Why?"

"The combat section starts at the end of the month," Haywood said briskly. "If you talk to the fourth-, fifth-, and seventh-years, you'll find you all have Friday afternoons off. The class will fill some of that timeslot starting at the end of the month."

"Why not sooner?" Harry asked.

"I wish I knew." Haywood frowned. "Dumbledore won't tell me."

"We need to know how to defend ourselves now! Only Moody did that, and he turned out to be a Death Eater!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes, I agree you need the work," Haywood said, "but it's not my decision. Surely you can wait a month to hex someone?"

"I guess," sighed Harry.

"Good." Haywood cocked his head to the side and sighed, glancing at the door. "And since your friends heard everything, you might as well give the good news to your army later."

"Can I go?" Harry asked.

"Sure. Just keep an eye out for McGonagall, she's looking for you."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

The second-, third-, and sixth-years were the only ones who had Haywood yet, and the other four years wasted no time in asking about their new professor during dinner. Listening to Dennis Creevey, Harry learned that the sixth-years had by far the most interesting class; the third-years were doing Grindylows, and the second-years farther down the table were going on to the first's about vampires; it was stuff Quirrel had taught Harry's year, but the youngest students probably missed with Umbridge and Moody.

Since he knew about the class at the end of the month, Ron was less disturbed by Haywood's news about teaching solely about dark creatures. He was more concerned about McGonagall. "You think she's going to give you the captain's badge?" he asked.

Harry heard him, but he was watching the professor in question talk to Dumbledore. He felt a surge of elation. Him, Gryffindor Quidditch captain? After all that happened to him last year, it only seemed fair that he get the position…he could see the team easily claiming the Championship trophy again this year with him playing Seeker and leading the team…

"That could be it," he said.

He looked at Ron and saw the barely-concealed disappointment. Harry felt a stab of guilt. Ron wasn't upset to learn he lost his Prefect badge, but he and his family had been so happy for him to get it. Although Dumbledore had Harry in mind for it first, the badge had been something Ron got that Harry didn't. And the captaincy was a position Ron had craved for ages; he saw himself as both Head Boy and Quidditch Captain in the Mirror of Erised.

Harry wasn't so sure of his strategical talents. His father had been smart enough to sail through school and become an Animagus by age 15, but Harry only excelled in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ron still trounced Harry in chess, and had defeated McGonagall's giant set, and he knew more about Quidditch moves, teams, and stats than anyone else Harry knew. And hadn't Talione told Harry once that he wouldn't make an effective captain as a Seeker? Chasers, Keepers, and Beaters had to concentrate on all the game around them. The Seeker was the most important player on the field, since the Snitch was worth 150 points; all they worried about was the Bludgers, the Snitch, and being knocked off their broomsticks.

The start of a headache pulsed above Harry's right eye and he looked away again. "What do you think?" he asked Hermione.

She had been quiet since they left Haywood's classroom and as Harry asked her, she was staring vacantly at her plate. Her fork missed her Shepard's pie and stabbed the tablecloth. Ron tapped her on the shoulder and she started in alarm. Harry snorted back laughter as she focused on them again. "What?"

"I asked what you think McGonagall wants to see me for," Harry said patiently.

"I don't know. Are you in trouble?" Harry and Ron stared at her. Her mind was truly somewhere else if she didn't know whether or not Harry was in trouble with a professor; she was usually the first to upbraid him for it.

"What were you thinking about?" Ron asked.

Hermione looked surprised by the question. "I was going over what Haywood said about werewolves," she said. "It's really sad that people like him and Lupin are hated so much for something that wasn't their fault. Do you think he'd be interested in S.P.E.W.?"

Ron and Harry exchanged looks. "Maybe," Harry said noncommittally. "Weren't you dropping that?"

Hermione shrugged.

When the feast ended and everyone started to leave, McGonagall swept down the table towards them. Since Haywood warned him, Harry wasn't surprised when she stopped in front of him. There was no telling from her stern expression if she wanted to talk to him about something like Quidditch. It could easily be some sort of trouble.

"Mr. Potter, I would have a word with you in my office," she told him.

She turned to walk away, expecting Harry to follow her. Ron gave him a subtle thumbs-up and Harry smiled, though it felt half-hearted. Given time, Harry thought Ron would be just as happy if Harry got the Captain's badge instead of him, but he didn't want it to become a point of contention between them.

Harry and McGonagall walked through the halls to her office. It hadn't changed since last year; tartan still dominated the room.

"Have a seat."

Harry did as he was told, hoping this was indeed about Quidditch and not trouble after all. Professor McGonagall offered him the biscuit tin, but he declined, too stuffed of dinner. She set it aside and studied him for half a minute in silence.

Then, "Harry, are you alright?" she asked.

The concern in it caught him off guard; he respected McGonagall, yet he never saw her as someone to confide in. His stammering gave him sufficient time to recover. "I'm okay," he said. 'I'm fine' would have been as good as lying and he couldn't bring himself to lie to her face. McGonagall's eyebrows rose and she waited for him to elaborate. "At least to get on with things," he added.

McGonagall pursed her lips, and after a few more tense seconds, she shrugged slightly. "Well, one of those 'things' is the Gryffindor Quidditch team," she said. "We need a captain, as I'm sure you know by now. You are the likeliest choice, and I would have notified you over the summer under normal circumstances. After a consultation with Dumbledore, though, I decided you should choose whether to accept or not." She looked expectantly at him and, when Harry didn't appear to be restraining wild joy, a little apprehensive.

It was well-founded. "I don't think I should be captain."

"Whyever not?" McGonagall asked curiously.

"I think Ron would be better," he said. McGonagall looked stunned. Before he could lose his nerve, Harry quickly listed the reasons for her. McGonagall frowned when he was done and he wondered if a simple 'No' would've worked instead.

"It's your decision…" McGonagall said at last. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, ma'am."

McGonagall recovered her composure and said, "Very well. Since you'll probably do so anyway, you may tell Mr. Weasley of you decision. I will talk to him tomorrow about it."

Harry grinned, imagining the look on Ron's face when he told him.

"One more thing, Harry," she said, pulling an envelope from the top drawer of her desk. "Dumbledore said to give this to you." Harry's grin faded as he remembered his temper tantrum last June. He hadn't seen Dumbledore since; he hoped the objects he broke were replaced.

_Dear Harry,_

_Kindly come to my office with Miss Granger and the Weasleys at 7 p.m. tomorrow evening. We need to talk. And as you know, I'm fond of lemon drops._

_Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore_

Harry looked up from the letter. "Thank you, professor."

"You may go now."

Harry put the letter out of his mind and hurried back to Gryffindor tower, his grin resurfacing a little when he thought of Hermione and Ron waiting for him, to see his captain's badge. He would worry about meeting Dumbledore tomorrow.

He saw Flitwick and an Auror walking around on the fifth floor. It was an odd to see the tiny professor next to the taller woman, both with wands drawn. Flitwick greeted him cheerfully, which eased the discomfort of the sight, but Harry returned it and then hurried past.

Using his shortcuts, he reached the Fat Lady in no time at all. "Gillyweed," he told her, and the portrait swung open.

Ron and Hermione were waiting for him, but so were Katie Bell, Jack Sloper, Andrew Kirke, and Ginny. "Did she give you the badge?" Ron asked excitedly, jumping up. His inkwell teetered and he grabbed it before it could spill on his homework.

Harry shook his head. "I turned it down," he said.

The team looked stunned. "But why?" asked Katie. "You're the best one for the job."

"I told McGonagall to pick Ron," Harry explained.

Ron's mouth fell open, then shut and opened again, doing a remarkable impression of a goldfish while he tried to find words through his stammering. "But—you—why—I mean…"

"Because you know more about Quidditch than anyone else I know," Harry said. "And during a game, it's more important for me to concentrate on the Snitch and other Seeker than the team. You can see everything as Keeper."

"Angelina did fine last year, and she was a Chaser," Katie said.

"How many team captains do you know who are Seekers?" Harry asked.

"Cho is," Hermione pointed out. "And Malfoy."

There was a chorus of groans from all but her and Katie. _"Malfoy?"_ said Ron incredulously. "Did he buy the team new brooms again to get that spot?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Kirke said glumly.

Shortly they broke up to resume their homework. Katie still looked faintly disapproving of Harry's choice but said nothing directly. "Do you really think I'd be a good captain?" Ron asked Harry quietly. "The others don't think so."

"You kept saying you weren't a good Keeper and you still beat Slytherin," Harry said, although Ron's numerous and awful past mistakes still haunted his memory.

"You don't know until you try," Hermione added firmly, trying to sound encouraging.

Ron still looked skeptical, and asked once more as they headed to bed, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Ron. Shut up already."


	16. Fractures in Peace

(Disclaimer: The sixth Harry Potter has been published. You all know this ain't it.)

Evidence to the contrary, I am still working on this.

**Chapter 15: Fractures in Peace**

It took just two days for the sixth-years to discover the free periods they got were to help keep up with their work; instead of being days behind, they could still cling by their fingertips to the dream of getting ahead of their workload before the professors dumped another pile on them. Hermione looked very surprised and a little smug when Harry asked her to go with him and Ron to the library instead of the other way around. He knew with their meeting with Dumbledore that evening, he couldn't finish for the next day and sleep too unless he buckled down.

"So what do you think Dumbledore wants to see us for tonight?" Ron interrupted. Madame Pince couldn't see him whispering over the shield of the books stacked in front of him. Harry couldn't either. "Think he's inducting us into the Order?"

Harry sighed. The Order and Mrs. Weasley had made it quite clear last year that they wouldn't. "Give that up, Ron. It's probably Occlumency lessons for all of us with Snape," he whispered back. He didn't see why Ron still wanted to be in the Order. Sure, he wanted to fight Voldemort as hard as he could, but after the fight in the Ministry, he thought his friend understood the dangers the Order members were putting themselves in to help Dumbledore. If they had to wait to join until they graduated, it was still worth the wait.

'_At least he's given up suggesting Dumbledore's making me teach that defense class,' _Harry thought.

Haywood had gotten fed up when almost every single class--except the first-years who didn't know any different—asked why there was no practical defense work in the syllabus, and told them about the new defense course at the end of September. The students had all month now to mull over who the professor could be, and for most it was a rerun of the same conversation they had during the two days before Haywood showed up. Most of the school was convinced it was Harry despite adamant denials that he couldn't fit it in on top of Quidditch and his homework. A few of the D.A. members, like Parvati Patil and Zacharias Smith, were miffed at him for refusing to revive the club and were supporting Harry as an option almost out of spite.

"Pince!" hissed Hermione in warning and they all hastily bent their heads over their essays, trying to look busy as the librarian approached to tell them off for speaking in the library. A first-year headed her off with book requests and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Madame Pince disappeared behind some shelves and Harry tried to concentrate on his essay for Flitwick. He wasn't finding any answers in the books in front of him.

The bell rang and he only had a couple more inches of his essay written. He rolled it up and put it in his bag, groaning at the thought of another late night doing homework. He knew from listening to Fred and George that NEWT preparation work was much worse than OWL preparations, and if he let his work slide he could never catch up.

Lunch improved Harry's mood a little; Seamus had started a betting pool for the identity of the second Defense professor, and Snape was heavily favored. Harry put two Galleons on the professor being one of the unnamed Aurors he saw at the train platform, relieved that he wasn't being asked anymore if he was teaching.

Defense class was spent listening to Haywood discussing Lethifolds, nasty cousins of the Dementors that ate people while they were asleep. Harry thought it was a rather boring lesson; the only defense that could drive back a Lethifold was the Patronus and he already mastered it. Harry couldn't see Voldemort using the creatures, since there was a fifty-fifty chance the victim would wake up during the attack, and if they couldn't conjure a Patronus or scream for someone that could, they were a goner anyway.

Transfiguration was more eventful. Talione got detention for skipping McGonagall's previous class. McGonagall had spent most of it discussing the theories behind human Transfiguration in the hope that learning it would cut down on accidents now they were working on themselves and each other, reminding them every ten minutes that humans were far more complex than a rat or bird. Today she split them up and told them to turn their partner's eyebrows green. After fifteen minutes the best Harry could do was turn a few of the hairs in Ron's left eyebrow and he was almost shaking with the effort it took. It was one of the better attempts. Three people lost their eyebrows, and like Harry there were others who could turn a few hairs and no more.

Hermione was only able to turn one of Seamus' eyebrows bright green, and was given five points for Gryffindor. When McGonagall checked on Talione and Pansy a few minutes later, Talione one-upped her by turning both of Pansy's eyebrows. McGonagall's lips thinned and she produced tweezers from her robes, handing them to the surprised Slytherin girl. "Pluck a few hairs for me, Miss Parkinson."

Looking perplexed, Pansy yanked out a couple hairs. McGonagall took the tweezers, careful to keep the ends pinched together. After a few seconds examination, she pronounced, "These aren't green." She pocketed the tweezers and rounded on Talione. "Regardless of your skill with them, Mr. Riddle, illusions aren't the same as solid transfiguration and that is what you are learning here. If you didn't miss my lecture you wouldn't have mixed your spells. I advise you to keep practicing and not act like a know-it-all in the future."

Harry heard Hermione gasp. Snape called her an "insufferable know-it-all" once, the only professor to call students names to their face. McGonagall rarely approved of Snape's teaching style, and Harry thought she would sooner go bald than follow his example.

Pansy had managed to remove both of Talione's eyebrows and replace them with the start of a mustache, and he looked very strange glaring at their professor. "I _told_ you, Haywood—" Talione began, but McGonagall's frown deepened and he stopped; arguing with McGonagall could result in more detentions and he knew it. "Yes, ma'am." She fixed his eyebrows, removed the mustache, and moved on.

By the time class was over, Hermione had perfected the charm and how to reverse it, winning ten more points for Gryffindor. Harry was able to turn a whole eyebrow green on Ron, and the rest of the class was showing improvement by hairs or half an eyebrow. Talione had quickly figured out what went wrong and caught up to Harry, but his improvement made McGonagall look even less happy with him. While the rest of the class started packing up, McGonagall called out, "Riddle, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."

On a hunch Harry slowed and stepped on one of his shoelaces, undoing it. "Go on, I'll catch up," he told his friends. This close to dinner, Ron's one-track mind didn't let Harry down; Ron nodded and pulled Hermione away with him, starting a familiar ramble about how hungry he was and complaints about classes. Harry ducked out of the line of sight of the classroom door and bent to tie up his shoelace again. The door slammed shut, causing him to jump and look up. No one saw him; Talione and Professor McGonagall were still in the classroom. He crept closer to the door and pressed his ear to the wood.

"…necessary, Professor?" Talione was saying. "You know why I couldn't make it to the last class. Why are you punishing me for it?"

"The detention I gave you was to cover for your absence tonight," McGonagall said. "Your records detail a number of visits to your old headmaster's office in the past; I'm sure you can think of a story to tell them if they ask why you were in Professor Dumbledore's office instead of mine."

"Sure. You hate my guts and wanted Dumbledore to take me off your hands."

"Ten points from Slytherin for your cheek; do it again and I'll double it. I don't hate you," she added.

"You were watching me with the same look on your face that Snape gives Potter on a regular basis!" he exclaimed. "You humiliated me in front of the class, when you could have stopped at showing me where I went wrong! Why? Because I'm in Slytherin?"

"Because you're volatile, unpredictable, and for all your worrying about being in danger, you're too overconfident in your abilities and take too much pleasure in showing off in front of your classmates," McGonagall said curtly.

A chair creaked as one of them sat down.

"Granger fits that description, too, and you don't give her any trouble," Talione said stubbornly.

"Hermione Granger knows half of what you do, and in light of where that knowledge came from, I must say that I don't share Professor Dumbledore's trust in you."

There was an uncomfortable silence inside the room. Harry was starting to get a cramp in his legs from crouching outside the door and he could hear other classes letting students out for dinner. He would be discovered in a couple minutes.

"I understand," said Talione, finally. His voice was low and cold, mimicking Snape at his most furious. "You've been listening to the rumors, Professor. And so it's clearfor the hundredth time: I am _not _one of the bad guys."

Harry heard Talione's footsteps moving towards the door. He looked around quickly for a place to hide and found a suit of armor halfway down the hall; there wasn't time to find a better hiding place, and Harry hurried over and slipped into the alcove beside the armor, pushing as far back into the shadows as he could without knocking over the suit. Talione was already exiting McGonagall's classroom and Harry ducked, hoping the Slytherin wouldn't notice him. Talione hurried down the hall at a fast walk, muttering under his breath. He was on the verge of tears and sounded like he was trying to break the record for the number of different swearwords used in a minute. He made no sign he saw Harry; he wouldn't have seen Peeves either unless the poltergeist dropped a bust on his head.

When he turned the corner Harry left his hiding place and walked to the Great Hall, joining the stream of students heading in the same direction. His mind raced as he walked. He thought he'd hear Talione expand on what he started to say about Professor Haywood, and what he heard instead made him uneasy. There were few reasons their meeting would be set up to include Talione, and he wondered if Dumbledore found out something about Voldemort's activities.

_But If he knows something about Voldemort, _Harry thought, _wouldn't he tell us earlier? _So it was something else, and Harry didn't have a clue what.

He found Ron and Hermione already in the Great Hall, bent over a copy of the _Evening Prophet _with Ginny. Ginny's face was pale and Ron was dark red with anger. "…cutting up Harry last year, but _Charlie?_" he was shouting.

"What about Charlie?" asked Harry in alarm. "Is he dead?" Any importance in what he heard from Talione paled in comparison to the thought of another Weasley in trouble. Mrs. Weasley once said the odds were stacked against their large family all making it through the war alive. Staring at his friend's faces, Harry felt so horrified he thought he'd vomit.

"No, he's alive," Hermione quickly reassured him. "Ron wouldn't be yelling if he was dead." She gave a tug on the paper and Ginny reluctantly let go. She pushed it into Harry's hands and pointed to the article. "Fudge arrested him."

_"Charles Weasley, 24, a dragon tamer who works with the Longhorn population of dragons in Romania, has been arrested on suspicion of Death Eater activity. Mr. Weasley was taken into custody early this morning in a raid on the dragon compound where he works. Charles Weasley is the son of Arthur Weasley, one of Albus Dumbledore's most vocal supporters..."_

"Charlie is as much a Death Eater as Peeves!" Harry exclaimed. "What is Fudge playing at?"

He sat down and started to tear out the article so he could shred it. Ginny yanked the paper out of his hands. "I'm not done with the rest of it," she told him, flipping over the page to an advertisement for Weasley Wizard Wheezes' newest product, the Fainting Fancies George and Fred had tested on first-years last year. "Fudge probably arrested Charlie to get information on the Order," she added, whispering because the shouting had attracted attention.

Neville leaned in to read the paper over Ginny's shoulder, his expression grim. Harry didn't know if he heard. Not that it mattered; Neville's parents were former members of the Order of the Phoenix. "I'm sorry about your brother," he told her. "Gram says Fudge and all his supporters should be sacked after they put Harry through the wringer. She knows some people, if you want to ask them to get him out of jail." The loyalty to Harry that Neville and his Gram had wavered very little over the years; although it could be a little embarrassing sometimes, on occasions like this Harry thought it was nice to have.

"Thanks, Neville. Dumbledore won't let Fudge keep Charlie," Hermione said confidently. "He's probably working on springing him right now; look, his chair's empty."

"That can mean anything, Hermione," Harry said. She frowned at him disapprovingly. Harry knew it was still a toss-up, though, whether or not Dumbledore could succeed in wresting Charlie from Fudge. Dumbledore had regained most of his prior support after Harry was proved right about Voldemort's return but he was still in low-standing with the Ministry on principle.

During dinner other Gryffindors and members of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff came over to offer Ron and Ginny support and advice about how to deal with Fudge. Susan Bones advised them to write to her aunt Amelia right away to get details of the case. "She's Head of Magical Law Enforcement," she told Ron unnecessarily. He still remembered Harry mentioning her from his hearing last summer. "She can make sure your brother's case is being processed properly and keep him away from Fudge." Ginny thanked her; she and Ron agreed to wait and see if Dumbledore could do anything first.

Harry didn't get to tell Ginny, Ron, and Hermione about what he heard in McGonagall's classroom before dinner broke up. It didn't sound the slightest bit as important as it had beforehand; they would find out when they saw Talione in Dumbledore's office.

They left their fellow Gryffindors behind at the second floor, taking some of the secret passages to get to Dumbledore's office. They were in front of the gargoyle in minutes. "Lemon Drop," Harry told it. The gargoyle sprang aside and they mounted the stairs. Harry rapped the griffin knocker against the door and a familiar, cranky voice called out "The door is open!"

The door swung inward and they entered. The only occupant was Fawkes, sitting on its perch. The phoenix was in its juvenile stage, still a little ugly, but growing its beautiful red and gold feathers. In the few months since Harry saw it swallow a Killing Curse to protect Dumbledore, he thought it would be a lot bigger and wondered if it had done the same trick again recently.

Ron squinted at the phoenix. "I didn't know you could talk," he said wonderingly.

Fawkes cocked its head and warbled at him.

"Of course not!" Harry tilted his head back and scanned the office walls. Phineas Nigellus was one of the few who were awake, sneering down at them. "You're early. Dumbledore's conducting business with the Ministry," Phineas informed them. "He said not to worry about your brother, Weasleys."

"Thank you," said Ron politely.

"Thank him when he returns," returned the annoyed portrait. "He'll be back shortly."

Hermione and Ginny were looking around with expressions of awe. Ron had been in the office once last year and he had been distracted by Harry's vision of Nagini attacking his father so he took a good look around too while they waited.

At precisely seven o'clock there was a whoosh of flame in the fireplace and Dumbledore's form appeared spinning in the grate. He stepped out of the fireplace a moment later, brushing ash off his purple robes and smiling. "Right on time," he said, surveying them, "though I see the young man who made this appointment is missing…Miss Granger, would you go downstairs and see if he is outside?"

He drew his wand and waved it, conjuring five spindly wooden chairs for them. Hermione returned a moment later with Talione in tow. He didn't bat an eyelash when he saw them; as Dumbledore said, he knew they were coming. Ginny gave Talione a little nod, bringing a small smile to his face. Ron's jaw set and he sat down between his sister and the Slytherin. Talione picked up his chair next to him and dragged it next to Dumbledore's desk, where he could see the headmaster and the Gryffindors at the same time.

"You've got a bit of ash, here," Talione told Dumbledore, touching his own collar where the headmaster missed it.

"How's Charlie?" asked Ginny.

Dumbledore brushed off the ash, his smile fading as he walked around the desk and sat down behind it. "He's safe," he said. Ron whooped and punched the air. "I convinced Cornelius to free him earlier this evening. He will stay at Grimmauld Place for a few days until the matter is sorted out."

"Which one is he, the second brother, or the first?" asked Talione curiously. "And what happened?"

"The brother between Bill and Percy," Harry told him. "Fudge had him arrested on charges of Death Eater activity."

"What happened, sir?" asked Hermione, as she sat down on her own chair. Harry followed suit. "Was Charlie under the Imperius?"

"No, nothing so serious," Dumbledore said. "It's my understanding the raid on the compound was for two of his fellow dragon tamers, for selling parts from dead dragons and other goods on the black market. He and one of his superiors were arrested in the heat of the moment."

"Why would Fudge tell the _Prophet_ that Charlie's a suspected Death Eater?" Ginny said. "Everyone who knows our family would know the story was a lie."

"Sounds like he's slinging mud and hoping some of it sticks," Talione said, his smile disappearing. "With support so turned against him Fudge can't sink any lower than he has already. That's why he wants me to give up whatever Doomsday weapon he thinks I have; the only way to go is up, and if he goes down in history as the Minister who wiped out Voldemort,"—the Weasleys winced—"he can die a happy man."

"And have you remembered anything yet?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"I wish I did," said Talione a little bitterly. "But it's for the best right now, I think. Draco's been staring at me so much he's either trying to lobotomize me by staring alone or to read my mind."

"Wizards can't read minds," Hermione corrected him. She glanced at Harry; he shook his head very slightly, knowing she was looking to him to elaborate. If Harry told Talione about Legilimency, he'd have to explain why he knew it, and he wasn't ready to discuss his lesson with Snape, or let Talione know that Voldemort knew how to break into his mind and control him.

"It may be Legilimency," said the headmaster gravely, letting him off the hook. He steepled his fingers and gazed at Talione over them. "Have you ever felt a presence other than your own in your mind while Mr. Malfoy is watching you? Probing your thoughts, or memories?"

"No, not around him," he said. "But there was this Auror once. Darby. He was one of the ones questioning us after the attack. He kept asking me what I saw, why Tonks found me with so many dead people, how I got there…and the stupidest things kept popping into my head. Anything but what he was asking me about."

"Can you elaborate?"

"Like…when Jamie had teeth pulled and Dad made him Mac-and-cheese for three days straight. Ashley blowing up our living room because she stole my wand to make her paper-mache volcano more interesting. That sort of stuff."

"What did the Auror do?" Dumbledore asked.

"Actually, he was sort of out to La-la land. The only time his eyes focused was when he asked questions. But he had an _attitude_…like I was saying the wrong things. If Tonks didn't come in, I think he would've punched me through the wall."

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "I believe the Auror was using Legilimency," he said. "It allows a wizard to break into someone else's mind and read their thoughts and memories. The counter-method is called Occlumency. If you're concerned, you should speak to Professor Snape about learning it."

Ron looked a little annoyed. "Is that why you brought us here? Because Malfoy's staring at you?" Harry thought of the stack of homework he had left to complete before he could go to bed and wished Talione would get to the reason he had Dumbledore bring them to his office.

"No," said Talione. "Just seemed like a good time to bring it up. I wanted to know if you told anyone about Eldraeli."

"Of course we haven't!" Ginny said, looking insulted. "Why would we?"

Talione shrugged. "I don't know why you do a lot of things." he said. "I just thought I'd check. You mind keeping it to yourselves for now? I'd rather it didn't until the end of September at least. My roommates aren't completely brain-dead; they can put two and two together."

"Oh!" went Hermione as she realized what he meant. "You're teaching the class?"

Talione smiled. "Yeah, that's the other reason you're here," he said. "Professor Riddle, at your service."

"We made an agreement a few weeks ago," Dumbledore elaborated. "Since he is not on the payroll as the official Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, there is nothing legally banning him from teaching. I only require him to have another professor watching him, and Professor Snape has graciously volunteered to fill in as his supervisor for the first two classes."

"Are you sure you can do it on top of your classes?" Hermione said skeptically. "Sixth-year classes are preliminaries to the N.E.W.T exams we take next year."

"Draco told me. I'm already a month ahead in most of my classes right now... aside from that Transfiguration hang-up today," said Talione. "You managed to run the D.A. on top of OWL classes and Umbridge, Harry, so it can't be too hard. And the curse on the position only hit adults so far."

Harry agreed with the logic, but he wished Dumbledore had picked him anyway. Voldemort was a lot stronger than his goons, and Talione didn't even remember how he defeated _them_.

"What about Professor Haywood?" Ron asked.

"Lupin warned him about the side-effect of taking the position. He agreed to step down at the end of the year," Dumbledore said, "and will return if I still need a professor two years from now."

"You need anything from us?" Harry asked Talione.

"A couple things, if it's not much trouble," he said. "I can't cast a full Patronus and Hermione said you could. The D.A. takes a fourth of the class and it'll be review to them, so I want to throw the Patronus lesson in early. Think you can take over half a period to teach it sometime before Halloween?"

Harry nodded. "The D.A. can help me teach the rest of them. Anything else?"

"Yeah, I need the list of their names, too, if you don't mind." Talione said apologetically. "I'm trying to see who knows what and where the class is ranging skill wise. Professor Dumbledore gave me a list detailing everything the last Defense professors taught over the years, and some of the grades—"

"You gave him our _grades_?" Ron exclaimed, giving Professor Dumbledore a horrified look. Hermione was more the sort to worry about her grades, but she was probably the best student in the four years Talione planned to teach. Harry wasn't happy with the knowledge that Talione saw all the bad marks he ever received at Hogwarts.

"He wished to compare Elaine Talbot's effectiveness to the other professors," Dumbledore said mildly.

"For crying out loud, Ron, I'm not mailing them to the _Prophet_," said Talione, already opening his bag and rifling through it. Harry glimpsed a small gray statue holding an unlit torch between two notebooks before Talione pulled out a small black book and zipped up the bag, dropping it beside the chair again.

"I gave them to Professor Haywood yesterday. I only wanted to make notes," he said, handing the book to Ron. "Take a look if you want." Stamped across the front of the book was a larger version of the symbol Harry saw on Talione's robes at the Sorting ceremony; a phoenix holding a wand and sword in its claws.

Since she was in the middle, Ron passed the book to his sister and she tilted it so they all could see the pages. Talione had devoted four to each professor, separating them by the four years he was going to teach. The pages were drawn into grids with the students of a certain year written across the top under the professor's name, and the titles of each assignment given them along the margin. By cross-referencing the title and a student, Harry could see the grade they were given for it.

"These aren't notes!" Ron said crossly. "You just copied out the grades a different way!"

Ginny glanced at Hermione, smirking slightly, and flipped through the pages until she reached Lockhart's record. Under his name there were just a handful of assignments. "Remember that lesson?" she said, pointing to a day near the top of the list.

Hermione groaned. "_Peskipiksi Pesternomi. _It took so long to get all those pixies in the cages!"

"Colin and Luna had to skip the next class to catch them," Ginny said.

The remark caught Ron's attention. "He did that to you too? You never told us!"

Ginny turned pink. "I had other things to worry about at the time," she said. "And he didn't make _me _cram them into their cages."

She flipped until the reached Umbridge's record at the back and turned the next page. On it were four tiny pictures of a human body, each labeled with the different system they diagrammed: Bones, Muscles, Circulatory System, and Nervous System. They were too small to see any details. "Are you studying to be a Healer?" Harry asked curiously.

"Hmm?" Since Ron was still hunched over the book with them, Talione had to stand up to see over the taller boy's shoulder. "No, it's for a lesson I want to do. Can I have it back?" He took the book from Ginny and put it down on the desk so Dumbledore could see it as well. "If you touch the drawings with your wand, sir, they blow up."

Dumbledore did so, and the drawing expanded to fill the page. Now they could see Talione had drawn each bone with painstaking detail and labeled the majority of them with both the English and medical names for them. The names for the bones in the hands, wrists, arms, and knees were underlined in red. Dumbledore shrank the drawing and replaced it with the diagram of the nervous system. "Clever," he remarked. "Did Madame Pince help you with this?"

"Madame Pomfrey, actually. I borrowed a couple textbooks."

"What is the lesson?" asked the headmaster.

"Humans, System Functions, and Utilization in Dueling."

"Target practice," Ginny translated.

"I thought you needed it," he explained. "People usually think of _how_ and _who_ they're shooting at, not _what_."

Dumbledore turned to the third drawing, and then the fourth. As he finished examining it, all of the silvery instruments around the room suddenly stilled, and one near the fire that looked like the insides of a clock started hooting like an owl, stirring a few of the sleeping portraits. Dumbledore frowned slightly and closed the book. "As much as I would like to see anything else you may have for your syllabus, Talione," he said, handing the book back to its owner, "it is getting late and I am expected elsewhere shortly. Is there anything else you would like us to know?"

"Yes!" complained Phineas, holding his hands over his ears. "Stop that racket!"

"No, sir, I'm done." Talione glanced at the Gryffindors. "You?"

No one else had anything to share. "You should return to your common rooms then, I think. Goodnight." He rose and walked to the instrument near the fireplace. The device next to the hooting one started ticking as well; Dumbledore touched the top with a finger and it quieted.

"Goodnight," Talione said. He picked up his bag and stood, walking towards the door without seeing if the rest of them were following.

Although he seemed unperturbed, the sudden dismissal caught the rest of them flatfooted and they were slow to follow. "Goodnight, sir," Harry said, hearing his friends echo him. Dumbledore was already reaching for the small pot of Floo powder when Harry followed Ginny out. The door swung shut automatically behind them.

"Think it was a Death Eater attack?" asked Hermione worriedly as they descended the stairs.

"No, I'd know about it." said Harry, trying to sound more confident than he felt. If Voldemort could trick him into coming to the Ministry and walking into a trap, it couldn't be much more difficult to block the visions Harry received from him.

Outside the stairwell, the corridor was dark and empty. Talione already wandered off to find his common room; Harry could hear faint singing fading away around the bend. _"…ninety-seven bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-seven bottles of beer, take one down, pass it around, ninety-six…" _Ginny giggled.

"He's mad," Ron grumbled as they walked to Gryffindor tower. "Why didn't he just send us an owl with all that stuff? No one's watching them _inside _Hogwarts."

"Talione is smart, even if he has more paranoia than common sense," Hermione said. "And he doesn't have an owl."

A couple hours later, facing the two essays left between him and his bed, Harry agreed with Ron. "He should have sent an owl," he said gloomily.

In the days that followed, it became obvious to Talione than an order was given to leave him alone. In such close quarters, Talione knew he should have been asked more questions than he was. It wasn't like he was being kept on the edge of the crowd by his status as a new student; on the contrary, he hung out with his fellow sixth-years and other hangers-on Draco had arrayed around him almost every minute of each day. Talione knew his terse replies weren't enough to quell questions about him, and Draco had enough influence in the house to pull it off. Talione was too annoyed to be grateful for the breathing room; he knew Draco was still reserving judgment on him, but he thought he could handle Draco on his own and despite Dumbledore's advice to do so Talione didn't talk to Snape outside class.

The only highlight the next week had for Talione was the letter that came a few days after his meeting with the Gryffindors. The only writing on it was his sister's name, Ashley, in Hermione's familiar script.

Talione gave the delivery owl a side of bacon, thanked it, and promptly stashed the letter in his bag to the great disappointment of his neighbors. "My sister's a dope," he told them. "Goes on and on and _on _about the stupidest things…better save it for a bout of insomnia." He waited until he could escape to the privacy of the library to read it. Inside the envelope was a good-luck message from Hermione and the list of D.A. people Harry taught.

When it was safe he sent a letter to Hermione, printing Ashley's name in the upper corner and addressing it to _Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts, Middle of Nowhere, Earth. _ It was short and to the point:

'_I may do some really stupid things before its safe to talk again, to you and your friends. I apologize in advance. It's not personal, I swear._

_My sis hasn't sent me any mail yet. If you need to send me another letter, try to sound like a twelve-year old girl and don't use the same owl twice. Any names I could use instead of mine on the envelope? _

_Talione_

With the list of names Hermione sent, his progress with the syllabus increased from a snail's pace to a turtle's, hampered as it was by the little privacy he had sharing a room with five other boys and all his free time with them too.

He lived for Hagrid's classes. The creatures didn't care what house anyone was in. Diricawls were scared of everyone and the Crups were equal-opportunity suck-ups, wagging their stumpy tails at any wizard that fed them.

"They really wanted to be here, but they can't take you class at the same time as the others," Talione overheard Ron telling Hagrid once, when they were supposed to teaching their Crups different dog tricks. Ron had one of the wizard-bred dogs in his lap and it was impatiently nosing at his hand for one of the rock-cakes Hagrid had doled out as dog treats.

"I know," Hagrid replied. "There's no way they could've done it. But yeh can still visit from time to time, yeh know."

The Crup he was training whined when she noticed she wasn't the center of Talione's attention. "Sit," he ordered her. When she did, Talione snapped his fingers and gave her a piece of the cake he held. "Good girl. Stand?" The Crup reared up on her hind legs and put her paws on Talione's trousers. He gently kneed her belly until she backed up and stood without a support. "On your _own_?" She dropped to all fours; Talione repeated the command and this time she did the trick correctly. He snapped his fingers again and tossed the cake, smiling when she caught the cake expertly in the air.

"_Do you mind?_ That sound's driving me mad!" Seamus Finnigan snapped at him.

"Dogs remember tricks better if you use a clicker with the treats," Talione replied. "I used one to train Auric."

"It must be a mutt, wizard dogs are a lot more intelligent," Seamus said haughtily.

"Yeah? Yours hasn't done anything correctly yet. Which one of you is the stupid one?" Talione's Crup finished her snack and sat down at his feet. He crouched and scratched her ears. "But you're a smart girl, aren't you?" he praised. "Can you bite Finnigan' ankle?"

She wagged her tail and sniffed his pockets for hidden cakes.

"I heard tha', Riddle!" Hagrid called out. "Five points from Slytherin! No trainin' attack-Crups here!"

Although he lost a few points every time he attended class, it was the less obvious perks that made Talione stick around: a place where he wouldn't see another of Draco's friends, and the (bad) drawings he had to make for Hagrid. It was a good way to unwind from the pressures of his other classes.

The professors started piling on the work after the first week and there were nights when most of the sixth-years didn't go to bed until the early hours of the morning. In contrast, Talione was able to finish all of his assignments in the breaks between classes. He spent a portion of each evening working on his syllabus in his bedroom while the other boys and Pansy were in the library trying to finish their essays. He spent the rest keeping himself on Draco's good side by making himself useful as a tutor since he knew the majority of the material they were covering so far.

He learned slowly that Slytherin had a careful balance of power; although they tried to present a united front to everyone else, within the House students were split into three factions; like Draco, half of them were people with a legacy of family in the house, or older siblings in it, and for the most part, this half was the one that backed most of Voldemort's ideals.

A fourth of the Slytherins were dead set against being any part of Voldemort's plans—this included the loner, Nott. Talione wasn't entirely surprised, since Nott's father was a Death Eater captured at the Ministry in June; it clearly made a negative impression on Nott, emphasizing the hazards in serving the Dark Lord. Everyone sharing Nott's views usually remained quiet when Draco started talking about what the Death Eaters could be up to. Draco never implied directly that he was in communication with his father, and he had few details, but it was clear to Talione that something was getting through, if not presently, then over the summer.

Nott was as unsure how to categorize Talione as he was of him. Talione caught Nott poking through a few papers he left on his nightstand one evening; after that, he locked everything in his trunk and went as far as adding a couple booby-traps to the lid, keying it to his handprint. If someone tried to get into his trunk, they'd regret it.

Quidditch was the one thing that appeared to unite Slytherin. Draco posted the announcement for tryouts a week ahead and made the most of the seven days he had to strut around, wearing his Captain badge and looking smug. Ron had managed to wrangle Saturday afternoon for Gryffindor tryouts, but the Slytherin team had the pitch in the morning. Draco and some of his friends planned to watch them and make as much of a ruckus as possible to screw up their applicants.

Saturday dawned cold and cloudy. Draco had thrown the tryouts open to anyone with a broomstick; except for himself, each team member had to prove they could keep their positions or lose out to a newcomer. Most of Slytherin turned up for breakfast; Talione couldn't remember the last time he saw so many teenagers willingly get up before eight in the morning on a weekend. A lot of them were planning to try out for one of the team positions, the rest had turned out just to see who the new Seeker would be.

The Seeker would have to be very good, Talione reflected, watching a pair of second-years excitedly discussing broomstick techniques. It didn't matter what the ones for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were like, Harry Potter was the one to beat. Draco repeatedly pointed out that finding someone to take on Harry was going to be the hardest part of tryouts. The seventh time he did this, Blaise put a Cheering Charm on him and refused to remove it until they left the Great Hall to walk down to the Quidditch pitch.

Pansy, Blaise, and Talione split off to find a seat in the stands. Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco joined the small crowd forming on the field. Pansy insisted on sitting at the very top of the stands where they could see everything; Talione thought it was less for the view than Pansy's wish to look down on everyone else.

Nott was still snoring in bed when the rest of them when to breakfast; Talione had assumed he planned to miss tryouts. He was surprised when Nott joined them a few minutes after they sat down, taking the chair beside Talione without a word. Blaise and Pansy made no sign of recognition or greeting, but he said, "Hey, Nott."

Pansy immediately pinched Talione's arm viciously between her fingernails; they weren't very long, however, she still caught skin through his sweater. He yelped and she got up and flounced away to find a different seat. Blaise shot Talione a dirty look and followed Pansy.

"Going after them?" said Nott coolly. His head was angled to watch the straggling line of applicants forming below them, and he watched Talione out of the corner of his eye.

"Do you see a leash on me? Dog tags?" Talione demanded. "I don't go 'woof woof', and I don't _'heel'_." He stretched his legs out in front of him and laced his hands behind his head, trying to look nonchalant. The few times someone from Draco's group wanted to talk to Nott, they approached him, not the other way around. This visit wasn't normal.

Nott chuckled and like the Sorting feast, Talione thought he passed another invisible test. "I thought you'd be down on the field for tryouts," Nott said in a friendlier tone. "Didn't you order a broomstick?"

"I was thinking about it," Talione replied. "But it took me six years to save up for my last broomstick and I can't afford a new one right now. I really want to get a Silver Peregrine. They're fairly new and Gaiman-Habring has good warranties on them."

Nott stared uncomprehendingly at him.

"International teams use European brooms, but the rest of us usually order domestic," Talione said. "G-and-H makes brooms for specific positions; their last new broom was a Quasar, a Chaser-style hardwood."

"Chaser-style?" Nott repeated.

The stands quieted as Draco strode out to survey the Slytherins on the edge of the field, carrying his broom over his shoulder and dragging the crate of Quidditch balls behind him. None of the first-years had enough courage to go up against their older Housemates, but there were two small second-year boys, sandwiched between Crabbe and Goyle and trying not to look nervous. The rest of those trying out ranged between the seventh-years looming over everyone else, and the weedy third-years.

Draco started at one end of the line and started pointing at people, at random, Talione thought, although there seemed to be a method to his madness. Without preamble, Draco ordered the ten he picked out of line and on their broomsticks for three laps around the field.

"Yeah, higher price, and more suitable for that spot than any other," he explained. "Zimmer and Spade make more generic brooms, but they're a little slower. Spade branched out into uniforms and gear about a decade ago, too. The gear's interchangeable; it's usually cheaper to get Spade's gear and a broom from the other one."

"I know what 'interchangeable' means, Riddle," Nott said shortly, and he shut up.

Draco sent the group up in the air and it quickly became clear what he had in mind when he picked them; the two second-years were amongst them and didn't last a lap before they both crashed, one into the ground, the other when he swerved into a goalpost while trying to see what happened to his friend. The others were acceptable flyers, but not particularly fast. As soon as the group landed, Draco cut all of them.

"Newbies?"

"Those two girls over there had Shooting Stars. The rest were Cleansweeps, 9 and down," Nott replied, his lip curling. He had a Nimbus 2000.

Ron had a Cleansweep 11, Talione recalled. He remembered those, the Nimbus line, and Harry's Firebolt. He added Shooting Stars to the list in his head; he didn't know if any other brooms were used at Hogwarts. "Not everyone's got money. The Beaters could get away with a Cleansweep 10, right?"

"Sure, in Dufflepuff," Nott said in the same short tone that implied Talione was wasting his time. Even opposing Voldemort's methods against other Slytherins couldn't erase the Slytherin programming that made him think he was better than everyone else.

They watched Draco set up a second team for laps. There were enough people left that a team three and four were organizing themselves as they waited for their turn. "Draco won't take anything older than a Nimbus unless the rider's really talented," Nott continued. "Most of them down there," gesturing to the applicants waiting their turns, "aren't built for speed. The broomsticks have to make up for it. Everyone on the team would be on a Firebolt if Draco thought he could do it."

"Why aren't you trying out?" Talione asked a little hesitantly, expecting to be snapped at again.

"Malfoy's stupid," Nott said coldly. "He won't make it far as Captain; only an idiot would become a Keeper when he's only had Seeker training."

Talione didn't see the problem. "Seekers chase a painted ping-pong ball around the field, and Keepers fly around three hoops and block a rubber ball from getting through," he risked. "How hard could it be to learn?"

"That's not it at all!" Nott said disgustedly. "There's a _lot _more to it than that! Their skills have to be top-notch; the captains run the team into the ground every practice learning new strategies."

"More reason to stay on the sidelines."

Laps finished and Draco cut another ten people, leaving twenty-seven on the field. The rejected players joined the crowd in the stand to boo and cheer. Draco split the remainder further by the positions they were trying out for, and sent all but the Chasers off the field to wait their turns. Draco had pointed out the players Miles Bletchley and Adrian Pucey to him at breakfast, and they were the only ones he recognized. Bletchley was the former Keeper and steamed at Draco for taking his spot. Pucey was a Chaser last year. Fifth-year boys and a third-year girl filled out the rest of the group.

Draco took the Quaffle out of the trunk and mounted his broomstick with the ball tucked under his arm. "Split up into threes!" he bellowed. "Bletchley, Bole, Pucey, you're up first!" Bole had an elder brother who graduated the year before last, according to Nott. He was built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle; however, as he, Bletchley, and Pucey scrimmaged against Draco in front of the goal posts, Bole showed he had more brains and a very strong arm. Out of ten tries, he managed to score on Draco five times and almost knocked him off his broom once. Since he had experience as a Chaser, Pucey was almost faultless, but Bletchley failed miserably. He was reluctant to pass the ball and blocked at every goal by Draco.

Talione watched the players intently, feeling that he would give his left arm to be one of the people soaring through the air if someone had the power to make it happen. Flying circles around Draco, stopping and changing directions on a dime…without a care in the world or a thought to the splatter he'd make if he miscalculated a dive…Jamie's levitation spell was the only thing that kept Casey from being a smear on the rocks when he tried the Wronski Feint, and it hadn't extended to cover Talione's broomstick. The memory of watching it shatter on the ground still rankled.

An hour later, only two people had outdone Bletchley's wretched performance, and the crowd was in a bored stupor. Any regret or longing Talione had to be flying again was overshadowed by the wish that he was anywhere else. The cloudy sky was clearing, heralding perfect conditions for Gryffindor that afternoon, and the cheers and jeers for each favorite weren't enough to hold Talione's interest through the repeating broomstick accidents and failures.

"Hey, Nott, I've got a Galleon that says Pucey, Bole, and that red-haired third-year are all made Chasers," he said, taking the coin out of his pocket.

Nott hadn't succumbed to boredom like the rest of them, watching the flyers through a pair of odd binoculars he brought with him, a brand with a dial attached to replay action viewed through the lenses. "I'll take it. She's good, but that fifth-year, Harper, is a lot better. He's going to get the third spot," Nott said. He produced a Galleon for show. "Pucey, Bole, and Harper, and I win. You win if it's them and the girl."

Draco landed with the last three Chaser wannabes to make the announcement. Harper, Bole, and Pucey were the Chasers. Talione paid up, wishing he bet a Sickle than a Galleon; Nott could better afford to lose those on a bet than him.

Picking the Beaters was easy; only Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent Bulstrode applied. She couldn't compare with the experience of the other two; Crabbe and Goyle had worked as a pair for years under Draco's commands before they joined the team, and playing with him as their Captain wasn't any different. Bulstrode was sent to sit in the stands within fifteen minutes.

The crowd's interest revived when Draco landed again. Crabbe and Goyle joined him on the ground few minutes later, trying to wrestle the Bludger they practiced on back into the crate. At a word from Draco they remained on the field, waiting for the wannabe Seekers to come down from the stands. However, no one approached the field and as the seconds ticked by, Draco realized no one would. He whispered something to Crabbe, fury darkening his face at this unexpected turn of events.

Nott lowered the binoculars. "Draco's going to _explode_!" he said, his face lit up with triumphant glee. "He has to be Seeker again if no one fills the spot." He twisted the dial back and forth, the better to watch Draco's face getting redder and redder, and raised the binoculars to his eyes again. "I could loan you my broomstick if you want to tryout."

"Pass," Talione said firmly. He enjoyed Quidditch played for fun; following Draco's orders in regular practice and spending _more _time with other Slytherins would be on the level with being hit by the Cruciatus. "I have better things to do."

A few students finally decided to try out for Seeker after all, and with a lead to follow, a section of the previously rejected players returned to the field in a few minutes.

Draco took charge again immediately, pairing off the Seekers to duel each other over the Snitch for the next hour and a half. A fourth-year girl named Robin Cassidy beat her competition to become the new Seeker, the only girl on the team. Draco congratulated her and gathered the new team around to set up their first practice. The crowd started dispersing to go to the Great Hall for lunch. Nott pocketed his binoculars, his usual frown settling on his face as he readied to leave.

"You're coming with us to heckle the Gryffindors?" Talione inquired.

Nott barked a humorless laugh. "Malfoy tell you he was planning to do it?" Talione nodded. "He's messing with you. No one's allowed to watch another team's tryouts in case spies try to Confound or hex participants," he told Talione.

Talione frowned, wondering when he would've found that out if Nott didn't tell him. Before he returned to the pitch? When he did and someone saw him? He could've gotten in trouble.

"You can do better than them, Riddle," Nott said, and Talione was glad to see his expression was neither pitying nor patronizing. "Working for You-Know-Who isn't as great as he lets on. It'll get you killed."

A few third-years passing Nott overheard and flinched away from Nott like he carried the Black Plague. One, ironically, made the sign against evil, putting their thumb between their index and middle finger and wiggling their hand. Nott ignored the quartet and disappeared into the wave of departing people.

Talione stayed seated until most of the crowd had passed and he was sure Blaise and Pansy weren't looking for him to follow. Descending from the stands, he spotted the pair with Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle on the edge of the pitch. Draco wore an expression of smug pride and even though he probably smelled ripe from the workout, Pansy squealed and threw her arms around him in response to something he said. Talione laughed to himself; she was thoroughly predictable.

"What did you think, Riddle?" Draco called out when he was close enough.

"Damp, cold, and boring!" he said baldly, "But it looks like you have a good team this year, except for the Seeker. I'm surprised no one wanted the spot. Who would want to pass up knocking Potter in the dirt?"

Draco's smirk disappeared. Talione was getting a knack at taking the wind out of his sails. "Cassidy'll measure up with practice," he said grudgingly. "I thought you were going to borrow a broomstick and try out yourself. What happened?"

"I'm not big on teamwork, and I have better things to do than practice every night," he replied. "Nott offered to loan me his broomstick if I change my mind, though."

"You seemed pretty chummy with him," Blaise agreed, eyes narrowing. "When's your second date?"

Pansy broke into nervous, horsy snickering. It took a moment longer for the comment to reach the brains lost inside Crabbe and Goyle's heads and they shrank back from Talione like he was suddenly contaminated. Draco grimaced, giving Blaise a look of incredulous disgust at the very idea. Privately, Talione thought Blaise wasn't far off the mark: between the sports talk, long silences, and awkward paranoia, his conversation with Nott felt uncomfortably like his first date with his Katelyn a couple years ago.

"Thursday past never," he said, "But I guess I should be flattered, eh, Blaise? _You_ were staring at us a lot during tryouts. Who do you fancy more, me, or him?"

Blaise's black skin flushed even darker and with a loud snarl he yanked his wand out of his belt and pointed it at Talione. "_Stupefy!_" he shouted.

Talione sidestepped the spell and removed his wand from the holster on his arm, making loud smacking noises to keep Blaise enraged. Draco stepped back, pulling Pansy with him by the arm. With his free hand, Draco drew his wand from his belt and held it up. He wasn't sure Draco meant to interfere if it came down to it, or to hex Talione if he won.

Already Blaise's wand was describing the motion used in a Silencing spell. Talione bent his knees, preparing to dodge while he sketched the shield spell. Blaise could always decide to chuck his wand aside and use his fists. _'Anger and fear ruin concentration and aim_,_' _Talione thought smugly to himself.

_"Silencio!" _

Talione made loud smacking noises behind his shield to keep Blaise enraged.

"_Stupefy! Expelliarm—_ow!" Talione's Stinging Hex had nailed his hand, making him drop his wand.

"One too many syllables," he said calmly, letting Blaise reach for his wand. He waited until Blaise was completely folded over and pointed his wand at the other boy's feet. _"Accio."_ Blaise's feet shot out from under him as the shoes ripped themselves off his feet and floated over to Talione, the laces still tied. Blaise landed hard on the ground, breath whooshing from his lungs. "_Expelliarmus._" He caught Blaise's wand and threw his shoes back to him.

Blaise sat up, wincing, and tied on his shoes in silence. When he stood up, Talione put the Leg-locker curse on him. "You started it," he snapped when the other boy began swearing at him. "Hop to lunch, see if I care."

He tucked Blaise's wand in his belt, not wishing to find out what could happen if he gave it back before his temper cooled, and turned away, striding back to the castle. Behind him, he heard Draco remove the hex on Blaise so he could keep his dignity in front of the Great Hall. He kept walking, listening intently…any second now Blaise was going to run after him to beat his face into the dirt and reclaim his wand…

He made it into the castle without his roommates and Pansy catching up, and didn't see any of them again for the rest of a blissfully sixth-year free day.


End file.
